THE RULES OF WOE AND DRAMATIS PERSONAE

[Darthe]

Hello and welcome. This thread, a thread outside of the three intended for the activities of the game at hand, is a record of sorts. It holds a simplified and modernized version of the Rules as well as an explanation of the game mechanics necessary for your success and a roster for keeping score, not to mention a few other useful items. While it is not required for participation or completion of All Our Yesterdays: A Tragedy in Three Parts, we highly recommend that you keep track of this thread for updates and regular information. Any major updates will be announced in all three threads. Thank you.

 

NECESSARY INFORMATION:

This game is designed to be played across three threads. As you will soon discover, you have a different role PM for each thread and may potentially have a different alignment for each one as well. What this means is that while this is one game, you essentially end up playing three games of mafia.

The reason for this is that in this game each win that your team earns in a thread gains you a point. Your overall goal is to gain as many points as possible, with three being the maximum and zero being the minimum. Thus, you want your team to win in each thread. The three threads are related thematically and in purpose, however for the sake of simplicity your alignments and actions are completely separate for each thread.

What this means for you as an individual is that the alignment that you possess in thread one has no correlation to the alignment you possess in threads two or three. Your goal is for your team to win in each of the threads.

Ultimately, each player will thus win as an individual. The players with the highest number of points will be the full winners of the game, holders of bragging rights and so forth. Everyone else will place in their own bracket. Please note that it is possible to score Zero points.

A score sheet for each player will be kept in a google document linked below. All players start with no points and gain one for their teams' victory in each thread.

THE RULES OF WOE:

 

1. Do not communicate outside of the game thread or pre-designated message boards created by the moderators of the game.

 

2. Do not quote any role PM or other communication with either moderator barring their express permission.

 

3. For votes to be accepted they must be in both bold and red. The only exceptions to this rule will be if a player expressly states that they are unable to bold or red for a specific reason.

 

4. You do not need to unvote to vote for the next player, though you may choose to do so.

 

5. You may self vote and vote no lynch.

 

6. The inability to gain some majority by deadline will result in a (M)ajority+1 roll of the dice for each player in roster order. If you land on the number equal to M+1 you die.

 

7. Day will last Seventy-Two hours and night will last Twenty-Four hours. Day one will last one day longer.

 

8. Upon death you are allowed one single death post unrelated to the game. Break this rule for any reason that is deemed intentional and a member of your team will die.

 

9. Submit any and all actions in a role PM or on a QT.

 

10. You are allowed to edit posts.

 

11. Due to the nature of this game activity is a must. If you are not regularly involved on any thread you will be replaced. A good rule of thumb is that you should have over half the number of posts that the moderators have.

 

12. Do not personally attack other players. Insults, jokes, aggression, and attitude are to be expected and are encouraged. Calling someone names to hurt them as a person will not be tolerated.

 

13. If you have any questions, concerns, or complaints you should immediately send them to your moderators. Failure to clarify a role PM that you aren't sure of or an action that was missed can really mess up a game.

 

14. Welcome to Hell week.

 

 

 

Players:

1. Verb

2. Chuckles

3. Leelou

4. Mish

5. Cloud

6. Hally

7. Nol

8. Yates

9. BG

10. Ishy

11. Razen

12. Lenlo

13. Crush

14. Des

15. Dap

16. Peace

17. Krak

18. Tiinker

19. TinaHel

20. Ree

21. Prelaya

22. Csarmi

23. Serra

 

 

This thread is where you will come to when you wish to see how many points any player has and if they are dead or alive in any particular thread. This will hold a copy of all information needed for the game.

[Darthe]

Thread One

1. Verb - Mafia Vengeful Killer Lynched D2
2. Chuckles
3. Leelou
4. Mish - Town Bus Driver Killed N3
5. Cloud - Vanilla Town Killed N3
6. Hally
7. Nol - Vanilla Town Killed N1
8. Yates - Mafia Traitor Killed N3
9. BG
10. Ishy
11. Razen - Town Vanilla Killed D3
12. Lenlo
13. Crush
14. Des - Town Vanilla Lynched D4
15. Dap
16. Peace - Town Doc Killed N2
17. Krak - Vanilla Town Lynched D5
18. Tiinker
19. TinaHel - Town Cop Killed D2
20. Ree - Vanilla Town Killed N1
21. Prelaya - Vanilla Town Killed N4
22. Csarmi - Vanilla Town Lynched D1
23. Serra - Mafia Traitor Killed N4

[Darthe]

Thread One Scenes:

 

 

Alba, 1052

on the Eve of Samhain

　

Wombat Wherin Wightslayer walked the winding way westward through the wood. He had hoped to hit the Hillfort afore sunset. But winding was the way. And foggy was the air. So Wombat Wherin wound wayward through his mind as well as willfully wayward through the land.

Hmm yes. The British kingdoms will be the fulcrum. Strathclyde and Cumbria. Lord Darrathe was a minor lordling ostensibly, but his demise most untimely could be the spark that lights the barn afire. With him gone and power to be gained, Alba and Northumbria will come to blows o'er Strathclyde soon. And which way will Galloway tilt? Unknown. Perhaps likely to wait it out.

The King of England will be compelled to aid Northumbria. Wessex has gripes against both, but lacks position to act after angering both Normandy and the Crown. Reliable missives state Normans have been received in Alba gaining safe passage by way of Mercia. Interesting. Possible Normandy-Mercia-Alba entente?

More months ere we can tell no doubt. But Leinster no doubt wishes well toward Gaelic brethren in Alba, not leastly due to possible conquests in Strathclyde. Possibly through Galloway. Hmm yes. Great powers number three in Britain and Éire. Alba, Éire, England. While the Normans, Bretons, and Norsemen wait to fall upon the victor. Orkney and Caithness also probably watching with interest. A tangled web but all begins to make sense on the grand scale--be that a light in yonder fog? Wombat Wherin most Wily and Wise will investigate...

 

 

 

 

 

 

"Ahoy, what spirit wanders there," Wombat cries. "Who hovers through fog and filthy air? Know that I am Wombat the Wise and I bid thee well."

A woman appears, her dress dark, her face fair. She is silent.

"What manner of spirit art thou? Speak I say, or I will take thee for a ghast and banish thee," Wombat demands, put off by the apparition's lack of courtesy.

She continues to approach.

Wombat draws a line in the dirt with his staff then holds forth his hand, palm forward.

"Come no further, ghast, or be unmade by Wombat Wherin Wightslayer, Thane of the Dawn!"

She continues until she is two feet away from Wombat's hand. Then, she stops and speaks.

"Wombat the Wise? That name suits you ill, Wightslayer. You may be clever, but you are fulsomely so. And so you are a fool. One who walks idly in blackest night where others fear to tread in brightest day. And so you walk blindly to your doom. And sightless you shall die."

She reaches up, pressing her palm into Wombat's. He is flung backward 10 feet and falls to the ground, dead.

The woman walks away, twirling a lock and chuckling to herself.

"Fair is foul, foul is fair..."

 

 

　

Wombat, Human Lawful Stupid Multiclass Wizard/Rogue/Bard aka HUGE NERD has died from cardiac arrest brought on by a woman's touch.

 

Heh.

 

____________________________________________________________________

 

Selma Ross walked through the little village she had grown to hate so much.  She hated it even more this year.  A man had been found unmarked but dead on the road about a mile out last night and it being Samhain everyone was whispering about evil spirits and faeries of course.  The fools.

 

Samhain.  She hated it.  The harvest was over, the kine being brought in for slaughter, and the bounteous crop being celebrated.  So the village was full of the sounds of laughing and screaming and the smells of liquor, blood, and feces.  She was walking past a group of fools dooking for apples when someone grabbed her from behind, put a hand over her mouth, and started dragging her.  She tried to bite but to no avail.

 

"Hello Selma.  Been meaning to catch up with you.  You hear about the man found dead out on the road?  Of course yeh' did.  That were your work weren't it?  Livin' alone on that house up on the hilltop, whisperin' with spirits, cursin' the townfolk.  Well it were too much this time.  You've gone and killed someone and now you're gonna pay.  Whole town's decided on it."

 

The man stopped dragging her, turned her around and released his hand from her mouth.  Selma tried to scream or fight or something, but the man dunked her head in the apple barrel and held her down for a good minute.  And then another.

 

Only when Selma stopped fighting and started seizing as the water filled her lungs did the man let her go, her head floating facedown in the barrel, ringed by a dozen apples.

 

 

 

 

Csarmi, Selma Ross, Vanilla Town has been lynched.

 

It is now night.  Please submit actions ASAP.  If you do not wish to use an action, please let us know that as well.

____________________________________________________________________

 

A year and a day later...

 

The day after Samhain, 1053

 

 

Morna did her cleaning at night, taking great care not to be seen.  That was the best way.  No one wanted to see servants, just their handiwork.  She was currently working on a very troublesome wine stain on a stretch of light carpeting.  She was putting plenty of elbow grease into it.  Focusing her whole attention on it.

 

"Out, damned spot," she grumbled under her breath.  She was so focused on her cleaning that she didn't notice the shadow approaching her from behind.  Not even when it revealed a knife.  And so, her assailant was able to grab her head and slit her throat quite easily.

 

That stain would be somewhat harder to remove from the carpeting.

 

 

Mr. Ree, Morna Connerly, Vanilla Town has been killed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Willem had fallen asleep on duty again.  He worked the night shift and had never really gotten used to it.  He often slept in until sunset and still couldn't make it through his shift.  And so it was that Willem didn't see or hear a thing when someone walked up to him, bold as you please, dragging a massive claymore and then lifted it with some difficulty and swung it at his head.  The blow didn't take his head off, but it did crush his skull, which was good enough.  The killer decided not to try dragging the sword away from the scene.

 

 

Nolder, Willem Wallace, Vanilla Town has been killed.

____________________________________________________________________

 

Malcolm was at his desk penning a missive to the Earl of Wessex when the door to his study banged open.  Standing in the doorway were three men, their faces grim.  Fox Macleod was at their head.  Malcolm had always hated that red-haired dandy.

 

"The King knows of your treachery, Malcolm.  You're to be put under guard until the headsman arrives."

 

Malcolm grimaced.  He walked up to Macleod, twirling his quill.

 

"Very well.  Who sold me out?"

 

"You should be more careful what you tell your bedwarmers," Macleod replied, a smirk on his face,  "or better yet, sleep alone and tend to your own needs.  One of them was my agent."

 

"Damn you, Macleod!  I am the true King!  I will have vengeance," Malcolm cried, shaking his fist.

 

"You will not.  Guards, please put Lord Malcolm under lock and key until such time as he can face the King's justice."

 

"Never," Malcolm cried, thrusting his quill forward into Macleod's eye socket.  The guards stood there, shocked.

 

"Dammit, you arse, that bloody hurts.  Who in bloody hell stabs someone with a qu--" Macleod's question was cut off as Malcolm stabbed him in the heart with a more conventional weapon, a steel dagger he always carried on his person.

 

At this, the guards broke out of their stupor and ran Malcolm through.

 

 

 

 

 

Verbal, Malcolm mac Duncan, Mafia Vengeful Killer, has been lynched.

 

Tina, Fox Macleod, Town Cop, has been killed.

____________________________________________________________________

 

A few days after Samhain, 1054

 

Malcolm W. W. Linnox walked through the makeshift war camp.  It had been set up hastily, and would be struck just as quickly in a few hours.  The English were on the doorstep, knocking at the gates.  They had scoured through Strathclyde and were into Alba itself.  The King was beating a hasty retreat, into terrain that might serve him better.  Linnox knew this.  He also knew that it would not work unless they could find the traitors in the camps.  This he knew in his bones.  Macleod had been right to be so worried a year gone.

 

The English knew more than they should.  More than the few scouts they hadn't caught could tell them.  And even their own spies could no longer be completely trusted.  Linnox wondered how much of what they told was true, and how much came from the English, meant to mislead.  And how much of it was both?  For Malcolm W. W. Linnox was no fool.  He knew that truth could be as misleading as lies.  Sometimes moreso...

 

And oftentimes, to win us to our harm,

the instruments of darkness tell us truths,

win us with honest trifles, to betray's

in deepest consequence.

 

Yes, that was it.  Their overconfidence at Dunsinane Hill took on a new light now.  What had led them to offer battle there?  The knowledge could lead them to the traitor.  And then, to a plan.

 

Linnox realized that he had wandered past the campfires caught up in thought.  He turned back.  And so he never saw the arrow that took him in the back and went straight through his heart.

 

 

 

Peace, Malcolm W. W. Linnox, Town Doctor has been killed.

____________________________________________________________________

 

Lulach mac Gillacomgain had always been the strong, silent type.  Silence was a useful weapon.  It made people think he was calm and veiled his thoughts.  Many people found his demeanor intimidating.  But a blade can cut both ways.  Suspicion naturally fell on him as he was the stepson of the King and stood to gain with the King's fall.  A less scrupulous man would be plotting the King's downfall in his position.  He probably should've spoken up more when the accusations came flying.  But he didn't.

 

So he lost his head.  The claymore took it in one clean stroke.

 

 

 

Razen, Lulach mac Gillacomgain, Vanilla Town, has been lynched.

____________________________________________________________________

 

 

Almost a week after Samhain, 1055

 

They were almost there.  Bonnie didn't know what she would have done if she hadn't run into Sir Osbern.  The roads were treacherous these days.  With the invasion still ravaging the countryside, she was more likely to have lost her harvest to bandits or deserters from one side or the other than to have made it all the way to the market in Dunkeld.  Sir Osbern provided safe passage.  Suddenly, the wagon stopped.  Bonnie hopped out to see what the problem was.  Sir Osbern was standing by the horses, their reins in his hands, staring up the road.

 

"Bandits," he explained, "Or deserters.  Not much difference between the two.  More than we can handle anyways.  I could take three or four of them and you could maybe fell one with your bow, but there are at least thrice that and they will be on us soon.  I will hold them as long as I can.  Take all that you can carry easily and make for the copse to our left.  Go.  Now."

 

Bonnie hated running from a fight but Sir Osbern spoke sense.  A dozen bandits were more than they could handle.  She wished he would run with her but she knew his honor wouldn't let him run from a fight.  She gritted her teeth and ran to gather a large sack, weeping silently.  About halfway to the copse, Bonnie heard shouts and the clash of steel from the road.  She murmured a prayer for Sir Osbern and ran harder.

 

Bonnie was no more than five paces into the copse when something grabbed her by the neck, making her drop the sack.

 

"Can't have you running away to tell what you've seen can we?" a raspy voice chuckled.  "I'll make this quick.  I've got things to be about."

 

Bonnie tried to scream but the grip on her neck tightened around her throat, squeezing the breath out of her.  The grip tightened and held.  Bonnie kicked and flailed but she couldn't get loose.  She knew her face was turning blue.  A veil of darkness started to creep over what little she could see.  She had to get free.  She gathered the last of her strength and tried to throw her attacker to the ground, but she was too weak and too sluggish.  The veil enveloped everything, and she knew no more.

 

 

Cloud, Bonnie Kay, Vanilla Town, has been killed.

 

 

 

 

Sir Osbern knelt, his hands pinned behind his back.  He'd managed to kill or maim all but three of the bandits.  It was much better than he'd expected.  That made the pain and the knowledge of his impending death easier to bear.  He smiled as he thought of Bonnie who was hopefully miles off by now.  A fist cuffed him hard across the face.

 

"Whatchoo smilin' at dead man?"

 

"Righteousness," Sir Osbern replied, spitting a mouthful of blood on the bandit now standing in front of him.

 

"Righteousness," the bandit repeated incredulously.  "Well yer about to be righteous dead.  You and the girl too."

 

Ser Osbern blinked in shock.

 

"Yeh didn' think we'd let 'er git away didjoo?  No, Gregor'll've caught 'er by now.  If she's alive, she wishes she's dead.  Gregor's a lil' rough you see.  Heh."

 

Rage boiled in Osbern's belly, the fire rising and filling his chest and then his head.  His vision turned red and he roared, leaping at the man in front of him, digging into his face with teeth and claws.  Wait no, those were gauntlets.  Osbern lifted them and pounded the man's skull with them, squirting blood in his face.  He kept pounding even after the face was gone. 

 

He heard footsteps and turned, bellowing and grabbing a hatchet the first bandit had been carrying.  He threw it and roared in satisfaction as it took the second bandit in the forehead.  Unfortunately, that was right when a crossbow bolt took him in the back of the neck, flying out of his throat and ending his rampage.

 

 

Misheru, Osbern Pentecost, Town Bus Driver, has been killed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gregor trudged through the woods in frustration.  Where had she gotten off to?  He had to kill her.  There had to be no witnesses.  All loose ends tied up.  What was that mad laughter he felt in his bones?  Gregor paused to catch his breath and started to consider returning to the road and reporting his shame.  It would be embarrassing, but waiting too long could be dangerous.  It was a tough decision.  A decision he didn't get to make, as an arrow took him in the chest while he was pondering.

 

 

Yates, Gregor Macgregory, Mafia Traitor, has been killed.

 

 

[Darthe]

Thread One Day and Night Start Links/ Final Vote Counts:

 

Csarmi Lynch Day 1

 

 

Day 1 Final Vote Count:
Salami (12/12): Leelou, Cloud, Nol, Yates, Verb, Razen, Dap, Krak, Des, Peace, Tina, Tiink
Verb (1/12): Crusher
Chuckles (1/12): Salami
Cloud (1/12): Mr. Ree

Not Voting (8/23):

Chuckles, Mish, Hally, Lenlo, Pral, Serra, BG, Ishy 

 

 

 

Verbal Day 2 Lynch

 

 

 

Day 2 Final Vote Count

 

Verbal (11/11): Tina, Cloud, Ishy, BG, Razen, Chuckles, Des, Pralaya, Serra, Tiink, Leelou

 

Not Voting: Verb, Mish, Hallia, Yates, Lenlo, Crusher, Dap, Peace, Krak

 

 

 

Razen Day 3 Lynch

 

 

 

Day 3 Final Vote Count
Leelou (4/9): Pralaya, Cloud, BG, Razen
Razen (9/9): Chuckles, Leelou, Des, Crusher, Yates, Hally, Ishy, Lenlo, Mish

Not Voting (4/17):

 

Dap, Krak, Tiink, Serra

 

 

 

Day 1: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83507-two-days-after-samhain-1053-night-2/

Night 1: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83507-two-days-after-samhain-1053-night-2/?p=2979777

Day 2: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83507-two-days-after-samhain-1053-night-2/?p=2980756

Night 2: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83507-two-days-after-samhain-1053-night-2/?p=2981314

Day 3: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83507-a-week-after-samhain-1055-day-4/?p=2982224

Night 3: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83507-a-week-after-samhain-1055-day-4/?p=2983981

Day 4: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83507-a-week-after-samhain-1055-day-4/?p=2985102

[Darthe]

Thread Two

1. Verb
2. Chuckles
3. Leelou - Vanilla Town Killed N 1
4. Mish
5. Cloud - Vengeful Mafia Lynched D 2
6. Hally
7. Nol
8. Yates - Town Bus Driver Lynched D3
9. BG
10. Ishy - Vanilla Town Killed N 1
11. Razen
12. Lenlo
13. Crush - Vanilla Town Killed N2
14. Des - Town Vig Killed D 2
15. Dap
16. Peace
17. Krak
18. Tiinker - Vanilla Town Killed N 2
19. TinaHel
20. Ree - Vanilla town Modkilled D 4
21. Prelaya - Vanilla Town Killed N 3
22. Csarmi - Town BPV Lynched D 1
23. Serra

[Darthe]

Thread Two Scenes:

 

 

October 31st, 1603

Southwark
London, England
 
'Twas All Hallow's Eve, the beggining of Hallowmas.  Guisers were out in the streets in costume and bonfires were being lit in some rather peculiar places.  One man was not engaged in the revelry, however; he walked through the back alleys of Southwark with a purpose. He was Wade Darrath, spy extraordinaire and he was just returned from Ireland.  The war was over, the Ulstermen defeated, and he had been given orders for London. And so he found himself walking the alleys of Southwark in the dark instead of drinking in front of the fire at the Boar's Head.  He sighed. The orders had been enciphered as usual, but even so, there had been scant little in them. His superiors were worried it seemed. Something about yet another plot to depose his Majesty, the King. There was naught in them to tell him why this plot was so urgent.  Assassination plots were a fact of life these days.  Usually, Wade was called in for more delicate matters. Anyways, his contact was to meet him here, south of the Thames. Hopefully the man would be on time. The sooner he could catch the trail, the better.

Wade had been waiting in the dark, damp, cold alley for the better part of an hour and was wondering when he would get back to his rooms when he heard a scuffling noise at the mouth of the alley. A fog had rolled in, so visibility was poor. Wade flipped a bodkin into his left hand and crept forward silently, his right hand against the wooden fence. Someone was approaching with a lantern. Rather noisily too. The fool.  Wade stood from his crouch and took a step toward the light when something cold wrapped around his throat. A chain. He tried to grab the chain and fling his assailant forward but something swung at his leg, crushing his knee.  As Wade hobbled on the ground, his leg ruined, unseen hands pinned his arms behind his back and a raspy voice spoke:
 
     "You'll have to forgive us for this, Lord Darrathe, but we can't allow you to stumble on things better left undisturbed.  This feud has lasted longer than you can remember.  Fate has led you here, and here your thread of life is cut."
 
Wade didn't quite understand all of that, but he was pretty sure he'd picked up the important parts.
 
     "I make my own destiny," he growled in retort, making a feeble effort to roll towards the wall where he saw one of his bodkins gleaming in the dirt.  Within moments, something struck him hard in the head.  He saw stars and tasted blood in his mouth.
 
     "Now now, my Lord.  The hurlyburly's done.  The battle's lost and won.  Besides, you know the business. Foul play is fair game."

With that, the voice cackled madly and Wade felt a sharp pain in his back.  He was rudely flipped over and another knife dragged through his gut.  His vision had gone completely black, his ears were deaf to everything but the sound of his heart pumping his life's blood into the dirt of the alley.  The pain seemed to last forever.  Finally, it faded.  And he was falling...
 
 
 
 

 

 
 
 
Darthe, Wade Darrath, Flyin' Pumpkin What Shoots Fire 'n' Brimstone from'is Nethers, 'as been "carved a new one."
 
Heh.
 
 
 
He sat in a cellar, surrounded by small kegs.  It was dingy, dark, and crude.  The low yellow glow of a lantern came from behind the sooty windows of it's casing at the center of the table his feet were propped on.  Absently, the man stroked the back of his black cat.  He liked it.  Kept the mice away.  And thus he and the other man waited.  
        Kill him, the voice in his head whispered.
        I need him, he thought back.  The man leaned forward and began to deal the cards again.
        You need him not.  Kill him.
        The man sighed.  His face was squat, sort of puggish.  The bowler hat only reinforced that.  He picked his hand up as his companion stood and began to walk outside.  He bumped a cask.
        Both men froze.  The cask wobbled, rocked, and then sat back in it's upright position.  "You CROCKING BUFFOON!  What'r ye thinkin?"  The man hissed.  Such a strong accent.
        Kill him!  It was a roar in his head.  Before he knew it his pistol was raised.  A brand new weapon.  The other man probably had never seen one before.  And he wouldn't see one again.
        The trigger pulled, the ball left the barrel, and the other man fell, smoke already filling the room like a thick gray fog.  The man pulled his other pistol and fired again to make sure before leaving.

 
 
Wombat, Constable Wherrin, 'as been killed by a strange man's balls.
 
Heh.

 

__________________________________________________________________

 

The death of two so well respected men naturally made its way into the news. It was a scandal, and everyone loved sold papers. People were squawking about so unusual a thing, but one group was silent. 

The Rose family should have known such a thing would draw attention. It happened in their neighborhood after all. People were scared, wanted answers. When Marian Rose couldn't provide any that seemed proof enough. They hung her from a rafter.

Csarmi: Marian Rose, townie with a BPV has been Lynched!

__________________________________________________________________

 

November 3, 1604. Morning 

TENSIONS HIGH IN WAKE OF GRISLY MURDERS

The Watch is in an uproar today after the loss of one of their own. Constable Rick Macduff, a man well known for his fair and rutheless demeanor towards crime, was fatally wounded by an unknown assailant in the night. 

The second, a man locally called Yew, was found facedown on the bank of the River Thanes in Westminster. He was 37 years old, father to two children. 

The Yard had no comment on these heinous crimes.

God rest their souls.

Ishy, aka Constable MacDuff Town Jailkeeper has been killed. 

Leelou, aka Yew, Town Vanilla has been killed. 

__________________________________________________________________

 

Don Kay was in a bit of a spot.  The murders the night before had everyone frothing at the mouth.  Well, to be fair, it was just the one murder.  The constable.  No one in London really cared about nameless commoners drowning in the Thames, but a man of the Night Watch, well that was an affront to law and order.  Bloody hypocrites.  Anyways, someone had claimed they'd seen him acting suspicious the previous day in the area of the murder and that was enough to get the lynch mob going.  Nevermind that someone else had actually claimed responsibility for the death of the constable.

 

Well they were right in a way.  He had been responsible for murders in the past and had been conspiring to plan many more.  But that wasn't likely to happen now.  So just as it looked like the lynch mob were about to break down the door, he screwed his courage to the sticking place and stood facing it, dagger ready.

 

The mob quickly overwhelmed him but not before he got in a good stab to the gut of one of them.

 

 

 

 

Cloud, Don Kay, Mafia Vengeful Killer, has been lynched.

 

 

Despo, Viggo "the Vig" Mortenson, Town Vigilante, has been killed.

__________________________________________________________________

 

November 4th, 1605

 

Patrick crept quietly towards the kitchens, taking a shortcut through the cellars.  He knew a cook there who liked to fool around.  Better yet, she sometimes let him raid the cured meats.  Patrick salivated as he started thinking about the fine prosciutto that had just arrived from Friuli.  He kept an ear to the ground for these sorts of things.  Patrick took a step forward and tripped over something.  He looked down at the culprit, a piece of cord, and shook his head, trying to shake the momentary dizziness.

 

"What's this then?  A rat?"  A man with shoulder length hair and a goatee walked into view holding a bulls-eye lantern and a rapier.

 

"Ah, a man.  Someone who's onto us?  No, more likely just some unlucky sod in the wrong place at the wrong time."  Patrick didn't know what the man was talking about.  His only thoughts were for the prosciutto.

 

"Well, I hope you've prepared your soul, friend," the man said, drawing his rapier.  Patrick tried to run, but his legs were tangled in the cord and he got nowhere.  He tried to scream, but the rapier pierced his throat and he made only a choked gurgling sound as blood spurted from his throat...

 

 

Crusher, Patrick McFinley, Vanilla Town has been killed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

November 5th, 1605

 

Sir Donald Mariam applauded and quickly fixed his hair as the King withdrew.  He had addressed the House of Lords today as it was the State Opening of Parliament, the first day of the new session.  His speech had been brief but to the point.  Sir Donald liked that.  Now he had more time to herd these sheep into a row for--

 

 

 

KABOOM!

 

 

 

 

Sir Donald's head was ringing.  Gray smoke curled through the air.  There were flames all around.  He heard a strangely resonant voice whispering to him quietly, but urgently.

Remember.  Remember...

Just as Sir Donald passed out, he realized he was going to die.

 

 

 

Tiinker, Sir Donald Mariam, Vanilla Town has been killed.

__________________________________________________________________

 

 

 

Ewin was cleaning up when three men came into his shop.  Some sort of noble and two Yeomen of the Guard.

 

"Hello, gentlemen," Ewin greeted them, "I was just closing up shop, but if you require anything, I am at your service."

 

"You are Ewin McGregor?" the nobleman asked.

 

"Why yes, that's me," Ewin answered, puzzled, his name was right on the door.  "I am the best wainwright in all of England.  Do you gentlemen require my services?"

 

"Have you seen this before?" the nobleman asked, proferring what looked to be a twisted piece of metal.  Ewin had no idea what it had been.

 

"I can't say that I have, my lord, what was it?" Ewin asked, wiping the day's sweat off his forehead.

 

"Master McGregor, I think you're lying to me." the nobleman replied, arching an eyebrow and stepping closer.

 

"My lord, I assure you I would do no such thing," Ewin hastily explained.  "Clearly you are on the King's business.  I would not lie to the King's agent."

 

"Yes yes, spare me your denials.  You will be taken to the Tower.  The gaolers will get the truth out of you."

 

Ewin screamed and tried to push past the nobleman.  He knew he wouldn't survive the Tower.  He had to get away.  The nobleman let himself be shoved aside but no sooner was Ewin past him than he felt a sharp pain in his back.  He crumpled to the floor and prayed that the next strike would kill him quickly.  It did.

 

 

 

Yates, Ewin McGregor, Town Bus Driver, has been lynched.

 

 

 

[Darthe]

Thread Two Day and Night Start Links/ Final Vote Counts:

Final Vote Count Day 1: Csarmi

Yates (1/12): Krak
Cloud (1/12): Ishy
Salami (12/12): Nol, Cloud, Yates, Verb, Leelou, Chuckles, Razen, Dap, Laya, Serra, BG, Des
Dap (1/12): Crush
BG (1/12): Salami

Not Voting (7/23):
Mishh, Hally, Lenlo, Peace, Tiink, Tina, Ree

 

Final Vote Count Day 2: Cloud

 

 

Peace (1/11): Serra
Cloud (11/11): Yates, Dap, Razen, Tiink, Pralaya, Peace, Des, Tina, Verb, Lenlo, BG
Razen (1/11): Cloud

Not Voting (7/20):

Chuckles, Mish, Hally, Nol, Crush, Krak, Ree

 

Final Vote Count Day 3: Yates

 

 

peacesells (5/9): Yates., Pralaya, Misheru Sedai, Razen, Hallia
Yates. (9/9): Verbal32, bgrishinko, serra, lolguy26, dapianoplay3r, TinaHel, peacesells, Lenlo, Nolder

Not Voting (2/16):
Krakalakachkn, Mr. Ree

 

Day 1 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83506-november-3rd-1604-night-2/?p=2977366

Night 1 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83506-november-3rd-1604-night-2/?p=2978842

Day 2 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83506-november-3rd-1604-night-2/?p=2980219

Night 2 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83506-november-3rd-1604-night-2/?p=2980774

Day 3 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83506-november-5th-1605-day-3/?p=2981782

Night 3 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83506-november-5th-1605-night-3/?p=2984798

[Darthe]

Thread Three:
1. Verb
2. Chuckles
3. Leelou - Town Vig Killed N1
4. Mish - Town Vanilla Killed N1
5. Cloud - Town Vanilla Lynched D3
6. Hally
7. Nol
8. Yates - Mafia Traitor Killed N2
9. BG
10. Ishy
11. Razen
12. Lenlo
13. Crush - Town Vanilla Killed N1
14. Des
15. Dap
16. Peace - Town Vanilla Killed D2
17. Krak
18. Tiinker
19. TinaHel
20. Ree - Town Jailkeeper Modkilled N3
21. Prelaya
22. Csarmi - Town Vanilla Lynched D1
23. Serra

[Darthe]

Thread Three Scenes:

 

 

October 30, 2000. 23:55

The one known as Dante found himself out after curfew again. Damn. It was a misty night, that would help. The city loomed up around him, glass panes reflecting the night sky from dozens of floors, the moon staring down at him with a wicked grin. Dante began to jog through the mists, the low hanging swirls curling out around him. He could hardly see the corner of the street when he caught a light begin to swing out from the corner at the opposite end of the intersection.
He panicked.
With no time to really consider what he was doing Dante twisted his way into a nearby alley. Alleyways in this part of London were dangerous. It couldn't be helped now, they would have heard his footsteps. So he ran, glancing back over his shoulder periodically. A cat mewled from the shadows of a garbage bin. He hated cats.
At the end of the street Dante stopped. Something felt wrong, felt wrong about everything. He always did have a good gut for this sort of thing. What was it? The light. Nobody was following him. They definitely should have been. He stood catching his breath, trying to discern what the problem was when it hit him.
The mist wasn't moving. Cold chills crawled up Dante's arm when he heard a whisper from his left, just over his shoulder.
"Lord Darrathe, we have been expecting you for a long time." No voice had ever held such evil menace as that one.
Dante didn't know what to do, didn't know who this Lord Mod was. He only knew that he had to act. He would only have one chance. The feeling of evil begain to grow again. In a whip he began to turn, felt his feet begin the slow shift towards action, his body tense, his legs begin to pivot his hips. It didn't feel fast enough.
It would have to be. He knew his life depended on it.
Dante was around, fist swinging in an instant. He hit the cold mists and swung right through them into nothing. No one was there. Dante didn't understand.
"Goodbye" she whispered from behind him.
His scream split the night.

Darthe who was Dante, apathetic mafia goon with a neck crick has been killed. 

 

________________________________________________________________________

 

What misery it was to be outside that evening.  Rain scared the children away, little costumed hero's that never got the chance to run in the streets.  Perhaps they would have saved him.  Chandler Rose found himself sitting at the pub that day, watching the tele ramble on about the death.  If it wasn't a slap in the face of the Chancellors authority it would never have been mentioned.  He sighed, the poor TV fools would be fined again, and turned away from the bar to go home.  The man beside him started to talk about it though.  Chandler didn't have much interest in explaining his views, he knew most wouldn't agree.  

Drunk men don't care much for that sort of thing.  He vaguely knew the man.  Another regular, always in earlier than he.  Nobody that came to the Faux and Hound ever went elsewhere.  Besides, the rain out tonight was swirling up the mists and it only looked to get worse.  Unfortunately, this man looked in a debating mood.

 

Rose didn't want to get into it.  That's what the onlookers said, what they all took away from it.  When the EMS arrived to take him away, his face stomped in by a crowd, it appeared that he had finally come to understand that his opinion really could get him killed.

 

Csarmi, Chandler Rose: VT has been lynched.

________________________________________________________________________

 

It was a cold night to be out like this. You hated killing, but on occasion it was warranted. Still, people were much more useful alive. Orders were orders. You sighed and continued your prowl of the rooftops. London, the great and rambling city, was home to the most disgusting of vermin. It sickened you to see such filth in your beloved, the home of the mighty and tainted alike. 
The grit of the shingles was enough to grab your shoes despite the rain and with a bit of effort you got into position. Finley should never have caused issues. It wouldn't be long now, he was a man of strict routines. That would be the Death of him. Down below in the streets you watched the mists swirl, twist, and flicker in the rain. The fought to rise, fought almost as if a- there he was.
Time stopped as you took aim. Huckleberry Finley froze misstep, your heart slowed to a crawl, the rain halted in its descent.
It was only you and him in this one final moment. It was almost intimate as you squeezed the trigger.

Crusher - Huckleberry Finley, Town Vanilla never even heard the shot.


November 1st, 2001. 

This city needed a hero. Most weren't aware, but you were. Fate told you. The city seethed, boiled, waiting for a single act to drive it's people over the brink. Tonight you provided that act.
The building you stood in was mostly dark, the only light shining down on a man tied nude to a wood chair.
"Salutations Commander."
He spat at you, missing by a good three feet. Blood seeped down his chin. "Go to Hell!" His voice was gravel, fatigued from what had been a very long and exhausting night.
"Hell is where you are soon to be. Your villainy is at an end."
He spat again, closer this time. You took a step back. 
"Vengeance is at hand. As you go screaming into the night know that my vigilant watch shall verify the necessity of your demise. Your evil shall be no more. You are vanquished."
You walked away, his screamed insults no matter of consequence. He called you evil. You grinned. Only three letters off. At the doorway you dropped a single brilliant rose and the music began to play.
That was too soon! Far too soon! You true to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. The mists were seeping in. No, this couldn't be. A low cackle filled the room, booming to greater noise.
The world went awash in flame as the bombs went off.

Mish - Commander Snow, VT has been blown up.

Leelou - V, Town Vigilante has too been blown up. 

________________________________________________________________________

 

 

 Jannessee Linneaux sat at a library computer Binging about a recent string of deaths.  They all seemed connected to her, had since her youth when she heard of the first one.  The lines of script had gotten dull to her an hour ago, but she had to know.  Jannessee never let go when the bit was in her mouth.  

      Suddenly she jumped up!  The dates, she had it.  She had a result.  With a little squeak she announced it to the library, far too loudly.  

      Angry eyes stared back.  Google users.  The librarian stomped over at her.  Shiiiii-

      In her desperation she announced it again.  A man on the left put down his book, KJE.  The librarian grabbed her by the arm and with a whispered spite drug her out of the library.  

      When she was pushed out into the street a truck hit her.

 

 

Peace - Aka Jannessee Linneaux Town Vanilla has died.  

 

________________________________________________________________________

 

Ewin McGregor slept soundly in wait of morning.  Everything was going to plan thus far.  If he couldn't buy his way in then he would manipulate them all into giving him what he wanted.  The fools would never even know.  He woke with a start, something had fallen over downstairs.  The house was quite large, the alarm system foolproof.  Why had it not went off?  Unless.. Of course!  This was his opportunity.  They had come for him.  Ewin sat up in his bed, waiting for them.  The door burst open.  He smiled.  The lead member didn't say a word though.  A silenced pistol raised.  That wasn't right.  They should know his loyalty!  This was all wrong!

Two tiny cracks split the air and he felt something cold and hard hit his chest.  Ewin fell back on the bed, blood staining his white sheets.  His murderer strolled out the front door as the sun began to rise.

 

Yates - Ewin McGregor, Mafia Traitor has been killed.  

 

 

 

[Darthe]

Thread Three Day and Night Start Links/ Final Vote Counts:

 

Csarmi Lynch Day 1

 

 

 

FINAL VOTE COUNT:

Salami (12/12): Nol, Yates, Verb, Leelou, Razen, Cloud, Peace, Dap, Des, Serra, Tina, Lenlo
Hally (1/12): Krak
Yates (1/12): Crush

Leelou (1/12): Ree

Chuckles (2/12): Tiink, Salami

Not Voting (7/23): 
Chuckles, Mish, Hally, Ishy, Tina, Laya, BG

 

 

 

Peace Lynch Day 2

 

 

 

Day 2 Final Vote Count 

Peace (10/10): Hally, Len, BG, Dap, Tina, Cloud, Serra, Tiink, Des, Pralaya
Ishy (1/10):Verb
Chuckles (2/10): Razen, Nol
Serra (1/10): Peace

Not Voting (5/19):
Chuckles, Krak, Ree, Ishy, Yates

 

 

 

Day 1 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83504-october-31-2000-night-1/?p=2977290

Night 1 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83504-october-31-2000-night-1/?p=2979708

Day 2 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83504-november-1-2001-day-2/?p=2981186

Night 2 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83504-november-1-2001-day-2/?p=2983385

Day 3 Start: http://www.dragonmount.com/forums/topic/83504-november-1-2001-day-3/?p=2984554

[Darthe]

POINTS:

 

1. Verb
2. Chuckles
3. Leelou
4. Mish
5. Cloud
6. Hally
7. Nol
8. Yates
9. BG
10. Ishy
11. Razen
12. Lenlo
13. Crush
14. Des
15. Dap
16. Peace
17. Krak
18. Tiinker
19. Lily
20. Ree
21. Prelaya
22. Csarmi
23. Serra

[Darthe]

FAQ:

 

EXAMPLE TOWN ROLE PM:

Darthe, time passes and everything changes.  Even you.  The fates have deemed it so.

 

In the 11th century, you are:

Mack Lemore.  Your name doesn't make much since, but who cares?  Vanilla Town.

 

In the 16th century, you are:

Mariem Lenore.  Most consider you a foolish boy, but you are a carefree soul so what does it matter?  Vanilla Town.

 

In the 21st century, you are:

Alberta Lenorre, the sweet pie maker from out of town.  Vanilla town.

 

Here is a link to the game threads:

 

 

Remember, to win the fight for yourself your team must emerge victorious in all three threads.  

 

________________________________________________________________________________

 

"What is to stop a PR such as a Cop etc from revealing their info in another thread if they die in the thread that they are cop in?"

 

The answer is that once you are dead in a thread you are dead and no longer party to the information that you had when you were living.  Thus, that player revealing that would be no different from someone dead in all three threads revealing information that they know.  Additionally, since alignments are variable, it will not help you hunt in other threads.

[Nolder]

How do you enforce rule 8 on third party players if there are any?

[Darthe]

Ban them from my future games.

[lolguy26]

Harsh

 

now where's my PM?

[Darthe]

We will be sending them in under ten minutes if I had to estimate.

[Nolder]

http://www.timeanddate.com/countdown/generic?iso=20130716T1235&p0=137

[lolguy26]

Nice nol 

 

where's yates?

[Nolder]

Little over 2 mins left Darthe. Where's my PM?

[lolguy26]

45 seconds 

[Nolder]

TIMES UP. GAME'S CANCELLED EVERYONE YOU CAN ALL GO HOME NOW.

[Lenlo]

TIMES UP. GAME'S CANCELLED EVERYONE YOU CAN ALL GO HOME NOW.

Awwwww

[lolguy26]

i wonder how many tabs darthe has open?

 

anyone wanna guess?

 

i say 5 

[Nolder]

i wonder how many tabs darthe has open?

 

anyone wanna guess?

 

i say 5 

~15 at a time.

[Darthe]

I've got nine and we are waiting on the marsupial :p

 

*Throws under bus*

 

Have at him, I'm impatient too.