Ten days after Samhain, 1057: Night 5 (CONCLUDED)

[WWWwombat]

Day 5 Final Vote Count

 

Leelou (1/6): Crusher

Krak (6/6): Chuckles, Ishy, Hallia, BG, Leelou, Lenlo

 

Not Voting (3/10):

Dap, Krak, Tiink

 

 

Scene when I get home.

[Lenlo]

and that is lenlo with the hammer (again lol)

Dont hate the hours, appreciate.

[WWWwombat]

Probably another 20 mins 'til I can get a scene up.

[WWWwombat]

Aileen Lamont was deathly ill.  She had only spoken three times over the past five days, and her face had been locked into a painful grimace for the past two, taking on a rather sickening pallor.  All her remaining family had come by to see her and had wept at her bedside, but that had cried all their tears by now.  It was clear she was in pain and that her time had come.  So you decided to end it quickly and painlessly...

 

 

 

Krakalakachkn, Aileen Lamont, Vanilla Town, has been lynched.

[WWWwombat]

Night stuffs.

[Leelou]

So tomorrow we can get back to scum hunting? 

[bgrishinko]

Agreed.

[The Crusher]

So tomorrow we can get back to scum hunting? 

 

 

Good morning.

[Leelou]

 

So tomorrow we can get back to scum hunting? 

 

 

Good morning.

 

 

Good morning, Crushlove <3

[WWWwombat]

Night actions plz

[Tiinker]

Wanna be lynching Leelou in the morning

[Leelou]

Wanna be lynching Leelou in the morning

 

You'll be wrong, but I'm done defending. I'm going to be voting for Lenlo or Hallia due to their voting patterns. 

[Tiinker]

 

Wanna be lynching Leelou in the morning

 

You'll be wrong, but I'm done defending. I'm going to be voting for Lenlo or Hallia due to their voting patterns. 

 

Cool beans.

[WWWwombat]

Ten days after Samhain, 1057

 

The King had been chased down at Lumphanan, and his enemies were closing the noose.  It was a malestrom of steel, fire, blood, and death.  William Macduff strode the battlefield, hacking off heads in his wroth.  He passed the body of Calder Merriam, one of the few Englishmen who fought for Alba.  He'd been cut down from behind.  Macduff lengthened his strides, his blood boiling.  The King had been Thane of Moray, and so all Moray had andwered his call to arms.  He would be damned before he let Alba go to the English while he yet lived.  Up ahead, he saw someone crouching over a body, looting it.  The body was that of one of the Moravians, one of his own.  He charged the looter, screaming.  One swift swoop of his sword was all it took.  The looter's head flew off and rolled down the hill.  Macduff stood still to look at the body and so he was struck in the back by an arrow.  He turned wildy, looking for his attacker.  He saw no one.  But the arrow had probably come from the trees, so Macduff made his way towards them.  Unfortunately, there was little cover, so Macduff took three more arrows before getting to the trees.  At this point, he was so weakened that he could barely hold his sword.  But he held it two-handed and began to stalk through the forest.  At this point, a man stepped out from behind a tree perhaps five feet away, bow fully drawn, and loosed.  The arrow took him through the eye.

 

 

 

 

Tiinker, Calder Meriam, Town Jailkeeper, has been killed.

 

Leelou, Tay, Vanilla Town, has been killed.

 

Ishy, William Macduff, Vanilla Town, has been killed.

[WWWwombat]

Thread concluded.  Please do not reveal or hint at your alignment from this thread until all threads are concluded.

[hazelkrs1]

B

[WWWwombat]

Eleven days after Samhain, 1057

 

Lumphanan had been turned into a charnel house.  The Scots were defeated.  Earl Siward of Northumbria would hold sway in Strathclyde now.  All that remained was to find their King and force his surrender.  Erik Reed, Housecarl to Earl Siward strode through the corpses with this intent.  The fog was intense, visibility poor.  As Reed stepped over a body, he heard something though.  He couldn't see, but he raised his shield instinctively.  No sooner had he done this than a bloody raging Scot came out of the fog and swung his sword down on him two-handed.  Reed barely managed to deflect the blow.  It staggered him, but he kept his feet.  As the Scot was recovering, Reed slashed at him with his axe.  But the man recovered in time and parried his strike.  And so they stood facing each other, and Reed got his first good look at the Scot.  He was in his sixth decade, but obviously quite hale.  He had a regal bearing.  Reed knew this was him.  The King of Scots.  Macbeth mac Finlay.

 

"You should yield, your Grace," Reed implored the King.  "Earl Siward will leave you your life and your throne.  Let us make peace."

 

"To be a lapdog for Earl Siward and King Edward no doubt?  No!  I will not yield to kiss the ground before Earl Siward's feet, and to be baited with the rabble's curse.  I am defeated, yet I will try the last.  Before my body I throw my warlike shield.  Lay on, Housecarl, and damn'd be him that that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'"

 

 

And so they fought on.  Macbeth with the reckless abandon of a man who knew he was already dead, Reed with the desperation of a man clinging to life.  It lasted for almost a minute, but eventually, Reed slipped inside Macbeth's guard and plunged his sword into the King's gut.  The King collapsed, and Reed knelt over him.  And thus spake the King:

 

 

    To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
    Creeps in this petty pace from day to day
    To the last syllable of recorded time,
    And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
    The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
    Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player
    That struts and frets his hour upon the stage
    And then is heard no more: it is a tale
    Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
    Signifying nothing.

 

 

And so passed Macbeth, King of Scots.

 

 

 

Mafia wins.

[bgrishinko]

Eleven days after Samhain, 1057

 

Lumphanan had been turned into a charnel house.  The Scots were defeated.  Earl Siward of Northumbria would hold sway in Strathclyde now.  All that remained was to find their King and force his surrender.  Erik Reed, Housecarl to Earl Siward strode through the corpses with this intent.  The fog was intense, visibility poor.  As Reed stepped over a body, he heard something though.  He couldn't see, but he raised his shield instinctively.  No sooner had he done this than a bloody raging Scot came out of the fog and swung his sword down on him two-handed.  Reed barely managed to deflect the blow.  It staggered him, but he kept his feet.  As the Scot was recovering, Reed slashed at him with his axe.  But the man recovered in time and parried his strike.  And so they stood facing each other, and Reed got his first good look at the Scot.  He was in his sixth decade, but obviously quite hale.  He had a regal bearing.  Reed knew this was him.  The King of Scots.  Macbeth mac Finlay.

 

"You should yield, your Grace," Reed implored the King.  "Earl Siward will leave you your life and your throne.  Let us make peace."

 

"To be a lapdog for Earl Siward and King Edward no doubt?  No!  I will not yield to kiss the ground before Earl Siward's feet, and to be baited with the rabble's curse.  I am defeated, yet I will try the last.  Before my body I throw my warlike shield.  Lay on, Housecarl, and damn'd be him that that first cries, 'Hold, enough!'"

 

 

And so they fought on.  Macbeth with the reckless abandon of a man who knew he was already dead, Reed with the desperation of a man clinging to life.  It lasted for almost a minute, but eventually, Reed slipped inside Macbeth's guard and plunged his sword into the King's gut.  The King collapsed, and Reed knelt over him.  And thus spake the King:

 

 

    To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,

    Creeps in this petty pace from day to day

    To the last syllable of recorded time,

    And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

    The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

    Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player

    That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

    And then is heard no more: it is a tale

    Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,

    Signifying nothing.

 

 

And so passed Macbeth, King of Scots.

 

 

 

Mafia wins.

 

Erik Reed here, at your service.

[_CLOUD]

 

 

TLDR: LEELOU AND DESPO ARE MAFIA TEAMMATES.

 

I will eat my hat if I'm wrong about this.

 

You'll take pictures and post them if you are wrong? 

 

 

Haha ok but we both know that it will never happen though

 

 

Well, I guess it did happen :P I ended up being wrong about you and Despo so here is a pic of me eating my hat lol:

 

[michellem]

You actually did it

[Verbal32]

Awesome.

[hazelkrs1]

[Leelou]

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

TLDR: LEELOU AND DESPO ARE MAFIA TEAMMATES.

 

I will eat my hat if I'm wrong about this.

You'll take pictures and post them if you are wrong?

Haha ok but we both know that it will never happen though

Well, I guess it did happen :P I ended up being wrong about you and Despo so here is a pic of me eating my hat lol:

 

Hahaha!!! <3 it!

[peacesells]

Lol cloud.

[Darthe]

Rofl this was grand.