the thorns sink fully into arie's neck, the noose tightening on its slack as she's pulled to the balls of her feet and finally......a death. @HeavyHalfMoonBlade dead men guess no letters. without warning or ceremony the noose around the new faction leader's head cinches shut, he's yanked off his feet set to dangle from his blackened gallows. wrong guess, no life. ....ooooh that felt good.

Pft I have one of those, it’s got a rainbow Mohawk. It’s a punk rock.

better guess right if you're gonna

another thorny noose wraps around a new victim, tightening @Arie into place oh good....did i fail to mention wrong guesses result in immediate final sentence for that poor excuse of a player? this should be fun

i suppose you can call it housebroken.

To sound thoroughly Brown…yes. I got books. Lots of books oh and some pet moss

Mary had just arrived in Tar Valon, and was not surprised to see the streets packed with people for the Feast of Fools celebration. She wore her feastday best and peered excitedly into each stall she passed. Many were delightfully covered in array of colors and lights, each as vibrant as the next! The smells and sights were wonderful, but her stomach rumbled loudly letting her know it regretted her haste in leaving before breakfast - but wait, was a that pie cart up ahead? As Mary quickened her pace toward the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pies, her excitement mingled with the infectious revelry of the Feast of Fools, the air filled with laughter, music, and the occasional burst of fireworks, creating a kaleidoscope of sensations that enveloped the City of Tar Valon in a joyous fervor; however, as she approached the pie cart, the bustling crowd seemed to part inexplicably, revealing a shadowy figure clad in dark, hooded robes, their piercing gaze fixated on Mary with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine, an unexpected foreboding that whispered of hidden dangers lurking beneath the festive façade, and as she reached for a delectable-looking pastry, a furtive movement caught her eye – a glint of steel emerging from the folds of the stranger's cloak, signaling a perilous undercurrent beneath the merriment that threatened to unravel the festivities into a tapestry of danger and intrigue. Mary had always bathed her time between the folds of her books, swimming the depths of fictional intrigue and squirreling her time away. Time that had the unfortunate side-effect of over-acting both her imagination, andcuriosity. Really if she had been blessed by the Power, Mary would have made a lovely Brown Sister. However, this day, facing this threat, her warning instincts met her immovable curiosity and froze her feet to the ground as the shadowy figure flashed towards her, short dagger raised, all ready for a strike. Mary could only watch aghast as the raised dagger fell, her active imagination already experiencing the dull, bludgeoning pain - stab wounds did not feel sharp she knew from her reading - when suddenly the dagger flew away in a burst of motion. An object rolled to a stop at her feet. A pie dish! She had been saved by a... The dark robed figure was knocked onto the ground by a short bosomy woman, who leapt over the pie cart, cannoning into the figure. This unexpected saviour whipped a wooden sword out from a scabbard on her back and started towards Mary's assailant who was already scrabbling backwards, looking for an escape. Adept at wooden spoonage, Mary's savior beat back the assailant, stirring up a heavy dishing of bruises, however in the shadows of the space between shops a second hooded figure emerged, sword glinting as they came up behind the utensil wielding hero. As the blade glinted in the sun, Mary noticed a cloaked woman just aside of her. She was wearing a serpent ring. Just as she noticed, so did the assailant who turned and quickly went the other way fading into the crowd. Of course, this is Tar Valon and Aes Sedai would be among the crowd. Why were assailants trying to murder her? She was just a simple young woman The answer to that was quite simple, the simple woman Mary had been attacked to draw out the Aes Sedai in the crowd

oh dear, dear Dark One. poor choice. with the faintest of movements from my finger the dry, dark noose drops around @LilyElizabeth's neck. tightening with a prick of thorns making movement uncomfortable at best

lucky you all are. for now

as eirik speaks a dark, thick mist flows in surrounding the entirety of those gathered to play this pathetically tedious chore that passes as a 'game' around here. little hairs on arms and on necks stand on their end in the presence of an electric charge to the air. crackles of which snap at their ears pulling their attention away from the growing horde of myrddraal and trollocs who've come at the Dreadlords bidding. form after form, layer upon layer of the hungry, angry beasts fill the black mists until there is no escaping, no running, no time to react. not that it was expected of these obsessedly game ridden fools. "Oh no, no points. from now on, you play for your lives" swirls and motes of mist tangle around the Moridin's cloak as she steps to the edge of the mists. "You lot think you can just play and play, racking up your pointless points, sending me back and forth to that blasted points board over and over without accruing a debt? the limit has been surpassed." as the Moridin speaks gallows after gnarled gallows are erected. the creaks and groans of their thorny wood filling the air. even as flows and weaves of air and fire latch EVERY player into their place "play well puppets. choose wrong, you'll feel the noose"

That thread is going down…. *plots*

ok that's it. *throws points book down* enough is enough

Mary had just arrived in Tar Valon, and was not surprised to see the streets packed with people for the Feast of Fools celebration. She wore her feastday best and peered excitedly into each stall she passed. Many were delightfully covered in array of colors and lights, each as vibrant as the next! The smells and sights were wonderful, but her stomach rumbled loudly letting her know it regretted her haste in leaving before breakfast - but wait, was a that pie cart up ahead? As Mary quickened her pace toward the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pies, her excitement mingled with the infectious revelry of the Feast of Fools, the air filled with laughter, music, and the occasional burst of fireworks, creating a kaleidoscope of sensations that enveloped the City of Tar Valon in a joyous fervor; however, as she approached the pie cart, the bustling crowd seemed to part inexplicably, revealing a shadowy figure clad in dark, hooded robes, their piercing gaze fixated on Mary with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine, an unexpected foreboding that whispered of hidden dangers lurking beneath the festive façade, and as she reached for a delectable-looking pastry, a furtive movement caught her eye – a glint of steel emerging from the folds of the stranger's cloak, signaling a perilous undercurrent beneath the merriment that threatened to unravel the festivities into a tapestry of danger and intrigue. Mary had always bathed her time between the folds of her books, swimming the depths of fictional intrigue and squirreling her time away. Time that had the unfortunate side-effect of over-acting both her imagination, and curiosity. Really if she had been blessed by the Power, Mary would have made a lovely Brown Sister. However, this day, facing this threat, her warning instincts met her immovable curiosity and froze her feet to the ground as the shadowy figure flashed towards her, short dagger raised, all ready for a strike. Mary could only watch aghast as the raised dagger fell, her active imagination already experiencing the dull, bludgeoning pain - stab wounds did not feel sharp she knew from her reading - when suddenly the dagger flew away in a burst of motion. An object rolled to a stop at her feet. A pie dish! She had been saved by a... The dark robed figure was knocked onto the ground by a short bosomy woman, who leapt over the pie cart, cannoning into the figure. This unexpected saviour whipped a wooden sword out from a scabbard on her back and started towards Mary's assailant who was already scrabbling backwards, looking for an escape. Adept at wooden spoonage, Mary's savior beat back the assailant, stirring up a heavy dishing of bruises, however in the shadows of the space between shops a second hooded figure emerged, sword glinting as they came up behind the utensil wielding hero.

Mary had just arrived in Tar Valon, and was not surprised to see the streets packed with people for the Feast of Fools celebration. She wore her feastday best and peered excitedly into each stall she passed. Many were delightfully covered in array of colors and lights, each as vibrant as the next! The smells and sights were wonderful, but her stomach rumbled loudly letting her know it regretted her haste in leaving before breakfast - but wait, was a that pie cart up ahead? As Mary quickened her pace toward the tantalizing aroma of freshly baked pies, her excitement mingled with the infectious revelry of the Feast of Fools, the air filled with laughter, music, and the occasional burst of fireworks, creating a kaleidoscope of sensations that enveloped the City of Tar Valon in a joyous fervor; however, as she approached the pie cart, the bustling crowd seemed to part inexplicably, revealing a shadowy figure clad in dark, hooded robes, their piercing gaze fixated on Mary with an intensity that sent a shiver down her spine, an unexpected foreboding that whispered of hidden dangers lurking beneath the festive façade, and as she reached for a delectable-looking pastry, a furtive movement caught her eye – a glint of steel emerging from the folds of the stranger's cloak, signaling a perilous undercurrent beneath the merriment that threatened to unravel the festivities into a tapestry of danger and intrigue. Mary had always bathed her time between the folds of her books, swimming the depths of fictional intrigue and squirreling her time away. Time that had the unfortunate side-effect of over-acting both her imagination, and curiosity. Really if she had been blessed by the Power, Mary would have made a lovely Brown Sister. However, this day, facing this threat, her warning instincts met her immovable curiosity and froze her feet to the ground as the shadowy figure flashed towards her, short dagger raised, all ready for a strike.

*notes that

sits down and takes notes wasn't here for any of this but you lot give a girl ideas

pick one, pick your positions and wear em loud and wear em proud!

remorse is not always because we knew before we acted but rather have come to know the damage of our actions afterward. you can feel guilty and not be remorseful. you cannot feel remorseful and not guilty how is it bad to come to know/understand a wrong we've committed and may not have known at the time, then feel remorse for causing the pain? remorse indicates a level of empathy.

i've noticed...

great to have such dedicated customers

i dont really think you are sorry. perhaps i should make you sorry

i'm encouraging you all to try this: come on get in the spirit

y'all need to stop playing that game