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[Nerjin]

Was my read on Kamin too vague? Sorry. I thought when you asked for a "read" you just meant my basic thoughts. Could you gimme a bit to find the stuff?

[Nerjin]

Well hopefully Kamin will flip which'll give us another day. We could always get lucky. Right?

Things like this, always asking IC excessively, buddying. Also, you say you hope to "get lucky" on Kamin, like he's set in stone to lynch today; it's just bad luck if he isn't scum. I say you're careless with your votes, with no real reasoning behind them.

Ic’s are there to be asked questions. How is it buddying if I take advantage of that? He’s the only one left. The only one I can ask.
Well let’s look at the facts on your second point. #354 is my main reasoning for the vote switch. I find the fact that he attacks a man who CANNOT DEFEND himself pretty scummy. Sox was leaving the game so Kamin saw a weak defenceless victim who he could accuse of lurking and what have you. Sure Vodot has made some tells [check my earlier posts on the subject. I’d direct you to them but I get the feeling that you haven’t read the entire thread.]

Nerjin, here's an idea: Who is more likely than you to be Kamin's scummate, and why?

I think it's most likely you. You've seen how badly he's set himself up by being a bad player and now your bussing him to make everyone else see you as an untainted saint for ridding them of the evil scum of Kamin. However I think you're scum-telling as opposed to Kamin's awful gameplay style.

unshorten. 

Actually, I think it is better to let this one play out.

Two minutes after you wanted to shorten? Did you even think that move over? Why were you so eager to shorten in the first place?  It seems like a foolish move to make during LYLO. You say in #337 that you are trying to win quickly. But the only person who can be sure that they win if Kamin is lynched is a scum. After all if we lynch kamin and he is scum than we still have one more to get. But if he isn't scum and you are then by shortening you win. I'm pretty sure that's what you're getting at Vodot

-snip-

Nerjin, give me your read on Kamin.

I'm thinking Kamin may be scum. He is giving tells but some of those could be considered just a bad player move. I'm still not 100% convinced that he is scum though. But he is my second pick.

*kamin bullshit*
He asked for a replacement. That's not lurking, that's a newb scum trying to deflect attention in the worst way possible. unvote So now I say Kamin / Vodot scum team.

^failed at quoting, the last text that appears to be quoted from Nerjin was posted by me and meant to be outside quoting frames. Including copy:

This is where it gets real interesting. You first say vodot is scum because he wants to shorten and lynch Kamin, essentially saying "If kamins not scum you are". Since you weren't really sure Kamin were scum, you voted vodot. That's fine, but then you go on and votes Kamin for...what again? Because he gives a shitty reason to vote? You haven't said what your "tells" were on him. Continuing, you say VODOT is his partner, but in your previous post vodot was only a suspect because there was a possibility of Kamin being innocent.

You're scum Nerjin

1. What is your reasoning for FoSing vodot?

2. What is your tells on Kamin?

And a third one for Jim, you asked the same question regarding Kamin to Nerjin, why haven't you pressed him more? What do you think of Nerjin buddying you?

1.   I am FoSing him because I think he’s scum. Well that would be Penngo now wouldn’t it? I think Vodot/Penngo is scum as well but the whole “attack a defencless man” bit is just too scummy to overlook.
2.   Well let me direct your attention [as well as Jim’s] to a few posts made by other people so I don’t Wall of Text [have I already?] because I feel they’ve said it better than I could. While at first I thought several of the points could be explained away after a bit more careful examination I find that they’re probably right. Posts #247 [parts I do disagree with but most is fine] and #267. Basically he does a lot of weak cases, OMGUS, WIFoM, Lurking, and plus the part that threw it over the edge, accusing someone of using “personal troubles” as an excuse to lurk.

[Tiruin]

Only footsteps could be heard, as the group proceeded in single file down yet another winding passage.

"He's hiding something about this place. Don't you see how he ended the story?"

"I wouldn't blame him. It's been a long journey until here, and boredom tends to dull the sense of time, Sire."

"Humph. At least he didn't say anything about the shadows and the lurkers."

"Hmm? Is that another folktale or summ'at?"

"Aye." The leader said, cutting all chatter with his deep voice. Whether he heard the whole conversation or the last part of it is uncertain.

"Stories say that even in the day, there are shades who plague the thinking of the living. Scions of magical birth, and a dubious end, any coherent thinking is destroyed by one afflicted by a Shade, and any conversation or flow of notion is broken -- Shades which exist in places where the veil between the living and dead is lifted. This is my guess on what is interfering with us."

"Shades, Sire?"

"Aye, lurking in the dark. As the old adage goes, 'See no evil, tell no evil; hear no evil, speak no evil.' No doubt I also suspect that the dead are watching us as we speak, if we...are speaking, that is."

• Nerjin (0) -
• Pranz (1) - Kamin
• Kamin (2) - Jim Groovester, Nerjin
• penngo009 (0) - 
• Jim Groovester (0) -

Not voting: Pranz, penngo009


The hour of the Owl.

((Day 3 will end at October 1, 2012 [Monday]  9:00 pm [GMT//UTC +8]

9 hours, 13 minutes and 28 seconds from the time of this post until day end!

Extension requests: 1
Shorten requests: 1

2 votes needed to extend the day
3 votes needed to shorten the day

Praise be, for Think's LurkerTracker! Used once per browser, every other attempt seems to fail until...some time later.))

((NOTE: If 1 extension and 1 shorten is made, the request is nullified as said in the OP.))

[Tiruin]

((One hour and twenty minutes remaining.))

[Nerjin]

Unvote vote Pranz

[Nerjin]

Shorten

[Tiruin]

"I can't take this silence! We've been moving through these blasted corridors and arched passages, including the vaulted hallways for- what, hours?"

"Calm down, lad! We've not even reached the Chambers yet and you're acting all fidgety!"

"Our leader speaks the truth! I can hear them!"

"Oh, I can hear them too. And I'm wearing a fake mustache and know how to dance the Tango with my left arm behind my back."

The leader stops and turns around with a bemused expression. "I- what? Bah, Map! Mark Sir Rynhart. Only a Templar would shy away from what he hath constructed! The dead will speak, and judge you by your word!"

The knight stepped back in apprehension as you all gaze at him, feeling the power of your leader's words echo on. A feeling of dread descends upon you all. You feel a certain tension.

Sir Rynhart bolts through the nearest passageway, and you try to follow but are stopped by the arm of your leader- how did he get in front of you again?

"Leave him be. We're near our location. Only four left, but that will do finely."

~Mafia Victory!~

• Nerjin (0) -
• Pranz (2) - Kamin, Nerjin
• Kamin (1) - Jim Groovester,
• penngo009 (0) - 
• Jim Groovester (0) -

Not voting: Pranz, penngo009


The hour of the Owl.

((Day 3 will end at October 1, 2012 [Monday]  9:00 pm [GMT//UTC +8]

0:00:00

Judgement has been invoked.

Extension requests: 1
Shorten requests: 2

2 votes needed to extend the day
3 votes needed to shorten the day

Praise be, for Think's LurkerTracker! Used once per browser, every other attempt seems to fail until...some time later.))


Pranz has been lynched! He was a Vanilla Townie!

Sir Henry "wsoxfan//Pranz" Rynhart

You are a Knight of the Iridescent Flame {Normal Town}, one of the recent neophytes in the monastic order. You have always been known to be loyal to the King and to his vassals, now having the power to speak your own in their presence. However, due to recent events, your only weapon now would be your tongue and your oath of chastity.

((You are of the Town Faction! You cannot act at Night, being a Vanilla//Normal Townie))

[Tiruin]

As requested by one of the players. Background music!

It is strange.

Strange, that despite everything you have gone through, only four remain. From the nine that were chosen, it would have been a peaceful trial, with words given and lost as the only casualty. Yet death leers it's ugly head, and this time, you weren't ready.

A few more steps, and the journey ends. You find yourselves in a vast chamber flanked with columns of smooth towering granite, depicting engravings of an earlier age. At the middle of the chamber lies an altar, somehow lit by it's own existence in a radiant blue.

As you approach the altar, you hear the tortured sound of metal echo behind you, and see the only exit shut itself from the outside, but your leader beckons on, pointing towards the altar.

Sir Locke is the first to speak, holding up Map and tapping the altar. "This is the place, then? The final deliberation?"

The leader replies. "Oh no, you're quite safe now. You can discard the wreath."

"Wreath?"

"The one you call, 'Map'. Notice that he has the feel of parchment, yet at the end of everyday, a name is marked in red? He is my pet. My companion. My tool. He tried to warn you on the first day, but I made sure that you'd take no other clue than that."

The leader smiles, and you see two of your companions have not reached the altar.

"Sir Creyn, Sir Zatheras. What are you two doing? Explain this nonsense!"

"Ahh, Sir Theras. Despite your wisdom, you couldn't prevent the death of your friends."

"I- what? You two are the Templars? Impossible!"

"We did not kill them," 'Nerjin', known as Creyn, replies. "And this is where you die."

"This is under peace! We wish you no harm in this manner!"

'Kamin', known as Zatheras, hefted his Morningstar as he pointed at the leader. "Yet it is his."

You all turn to see the very man who led you to this place: to the Fane and through all the tedious days and nights here, standing behind the altar. An aura with colors unlike anything ever seen enveloping his body.

"Yes, my friends. I am the wizard, hardly thought you would've noticed with all the clues."

"We know, well, knew. But this is hardly the case anymore, is it?" Kamin replies.

penngo009, known as Locke, brings out his sword and points it at the two. "It is the case! You will kill us in cold blood? Like- like you did for the rest?"

"It will not be I who did so, sire." Nerjin said, "My friend watches over me, and we will return absolved."

With that, the two rush the remaining survivors of the Iridescent Flame, easily disarming them and knocking them out with the haft of their weapons.

Turning to the leader, Kamin speaks. "The deal is done. No more pretending. No more lies. You stop the killing, and return to us our promise from long ago."

"What promise?"

"That one? About memory and whatnot?"

"Oh, right."

The leader steps over the fallen bodies of penngo009, and Jim Groovester, now known as Theras, and sweeps his hands over their temples, muttering silently.

"It is done, carry them back to the surface and reclaim your reward. Nothing shall stop you, for no man will remember."

~~~

The day comes, and the crowd watches on as the Marshall and his men attack the doors of the Keep of the Mountain Fane.

"Harder, ye dogs! The door may be locked from the inside, but we will have the traitorous scum soon enough! Harder!"

"Halt!"

Sir Rynhart's voice calms the crown as an oaken beam is lifted from the inside and the doors are opened, showing him and another -- Sir Xavier.

"We have been attacked, milord," he says, holding his colleague's limp body. "Hundreds...no, thousands of shadows coming from the walls. Nearly drove me mad, but I managed to get out of the hellhole-"

"Hold it, what hellhole? There is no passage anywhere in the fane which crosses the hard bedrock which nestles it."

"A- That passage! There-"

"No need, Sir Knight."

All eyes are drawn to four knights emerging from the Great Hall, two carrying the other two.

"It has been dealt with. The shadows were nothing but the spirits of justice. We have found the perpetrators, and they have been dealt with. Sir Alarei, if you may, return us to our standing."

As if mystified, the Marshal draws his sword. Drawing it in such a way that no ill will is meant as he takes the two and blesses the rest.

"Ye have done well, knights. I had thought the trials be lost, and had a whole regiment ready to charge into wherever ye had gone, but it seems ye are now safe, aye? Thy leader, where is he?"

"He was...the culprit. We sealed the passage, gave him the Amontillado treatment. A befitting way of ending this."

The Marshal nods as he gestures to Sir Rynhart, ordering him to sheath his blade and help with the festivities to follow.

The day draws to a close after a long period of revelry and mirth, where the bodies of the slain are put to rest in their final place just outside the Mountain Fane.

Ye see a memorial, made out of the finest marble we can afford. On it lies the names of those who have been tried, and died at this momentous occasion.

Sir George "markressler//webadict" Mendel
- Had an herb, lost his word. His life was forfeit. He shall be missed.

Sir Wilhelm "Shakerag" Conricht
- Of finest blade, lost his spade. He is buried in the grounds he lived in.

Sir Richard "Wrex" Gavorn
- The keys of knowledge, life in thy hands. He lives on in our memories.

May ye be remembered, forsooth, Justice has claimed thine lives in the conflict. Yet hope shines forth and Providence is deemed to be determined in truth.

The rays of the setting sun cover the land, and in the distance on King's Road, a carriage moves. It's driver being one of the merchants servicing the Fane, while it's passengers being the two knights who arrived, victorious.

"So, Nerjin. Sounds like a mighty fine sobriquet. When we meet the King, it will be good to know that he expects our presence."

"Aye, I actually had it in for ye. What happened anyway?"

"It was our leader, he was the wizard who had caused all this -- controlling the ways of the land while keeping an eye out for potential sources of power. Power by which, you had."

"I killed them?"

"Technically. We did leave that old heretic though. I managed to jam the lock of the doors as he was coming back up, explaining why he didn't, actually."

"Well, all's good in the end, I suppose. At least those knights had what was coming to them. A good burial and an honorable word from the Marshal."

"Are ye ready?" the coachman said. "The Capital is on the horizon!"

"Dariush! You old dog. We know that!" Nerjin said. "You were the juice vendor all along. Can't say I love your work, but it seems it did the job!"

No reply was made, but the smile of the Spymaster. No blood shed but a day's work done.

Sir Thead whistles a merry tune in tandem with the horses' trot, for they were headed for the King himself, and there was nobody to stop them.

~The End~

[Tiruin]

Scum chat!

Dead chat! - which I probably shouldn't have put up due to...well.

Spoiler: Cast of XXXVI (click to show/hide)

Mafia

Sir Gregoir "Kamin" Zatheras

You are the Templar Chaplain {Mafia Roleblocker}, a pious and devout man to the memories of the long forgotten past. You recall the times where peace reigned throughout the realm for years, undisturbed by the problems today. But this was then; your people have dwindled throughout the years, replaced by these so-called knights in the quest for growth and prosperity. A new hand rules over the realm, and you and your followers bask in it's shadow.

However, not all hope is lost. Your piety to the reigning diety has granted you powers that these new orders cannot fully comprehend. Being able to invoke their power when needed, you can disable any authority that stands in your way -- whether it be physical or magical force, none can stand against the will of a righteous man except for Justice, herself.

You are here to ensure that your quest for vengeance and redemption will be fulfilled, having breached the confines of the Chapterhouse of the highest order in the land, it would only take a few more crucial steps to ensure victory. Whether it be by the sword, or by the pen, you know you shall succeed.

((You are of the Mafia Faction! Being the Roleblocker, you are able to Roleblock any individual who you deem worthy of being disabled for the night. The roleblock stops any action of the target from occurring. You may speak with your allies in the scumchat: http://www.quicktopic.com/48/H/FGSrjgaFAMN))

Sir Jurith "Nerjin" Creyn

You are the Templar Grandmaster {Mafia Godfather}, one of the last of your order. Your order has been plagued by slander and conspiracies, burdened by the load of lies and deceit. Your followers are few, and dispersed throughout the land, powerless to take on the multitudes around them in your quest.

But you, are alive, and together with your ally, have managed to infiltrate the Chapterhouse of the highest current order in the land -- the Iridescent Flame. Together, with your specialized training and with the aid of a secret hand, you know that no source of information can betray you in your quest for vengeance.

Your training in subterfuge has proven a boon to your survival, being able to speak with your allies in secret along with personal defense lessons in the arts of swordplay.

((You are of the Mafia Faction! Being the Godfather, you are immune to Town Cop results -- showing up as Town to any inspects laid on you. You may speak with your allies in the scumchat: http://www.quicktopic.com/48/H/FGSrjgaFAMN))

Sir Darius Thead

You are the Templar Spymaster {Mafia IC}, tasked with the overwatch of the infiltration in the keep. You have always been on the opposing side, only choosing to remain with the heretics until the time is right. However, due to the fact that you are known as a neutral party, you may not harm any of the other knights in their deliberations but can advise those under your tutelage through the noble act of subterfuge.

((You have volunteered to be the Mafia IC!))

Town and other Factions!

Sir Henry "wsoxfan//Pranz" Rynhart

You are a Knight of the Iridescent Flame {Normal Town}, one of the recent neophytes in the monastic order. You have always been known to be loyal to the King and to his vassals, now having the power to speak your own in their presence. However, due to recent events, your only weapon now would be your tongue and your oath of chastity.

((You are of the Town Faction! You cannot act at Night, being a Vanilla//Normal Townie))

Sir Leon "kingfisher1112" Xavier

You are a Knight of the Iridescent Flame {Normal Town}, one of the recent neophytes in the monastic order. You have always been known to be loyal to the King and to his vassals, now having the power to speak your own in their presence. However, due to recent events, your only weapon now would be your tongue and your oath of chastity.

((You are of the Town Faction! You cannot act at Night, being a Vanilla//Normal Townie))

Sir Theodore "vodot//penngo009" Locke

You are a Knight of the Iridescent Flame {Normal Town}, one of the recent neophytes in the monastic order. You have always been known to be loyal to the King and to his vassals, now having the power to speak your own in their presence. However, due to recent events, your only weapon now would be your tongue and your oath of chastity.

((You are of the Town Faction! You cannot act at Night, being a Vanilla//Normal Townie))

Sir George "markressler//webadict" Mendel

You are the Apothecary of the Iridescent Flame {Town Doctor}, a noble and trusted man in the eyes of the commoners and of your fellow knights. Your knowledge on herbal lore and treatment of the wounded have been crucial to the survival of your order, being able to heal the most grevous of wounds and maladys. Your trustworthiness has given you free passage of the order halls during the hours after twilight, due to recent events.

((You are of the Town Faction! Every Night you can choose to Protect any individual, except yourself from the Mafia Nightkill, thereby saving the target if the same target was singled out for death during the Night.))

Sir Richard "Wrex" Gavorn

You are the Quartermaster of the Iridescent Flame {Town Cop}, one of the elders of the archaic monastic order. You carry the lock and keys to the archives and librariums of your people, and have always been entrusted with keeping the dishes clean. Your oath to the King and to your lord has given you the freedom to browse the archives every night in your quest for vindication due to recent events, and though you have been an influential individual in the presence of nobility for most of your life, your only weapons here are your tongue and your keys.

((You are of the Town Faction! Every Night you can choose to Inspect any individual to discover their alignment {which will read: Town or Mafia}. You cannot inspect yourself.))

Sir Edmund "Jim Groovester" Theras

You are a Knight of the Iridescent Flame {Normal Town}, an elder in the monastic order. You have always been known to be loyal to the King and to his vassals, now having the power to speak your own in their presence. However, due to recent events, your only weapon now would be your tongue and your wisdom gained from your status as a noble.

((You are of the Town Faction! You cannot act at Night, being a Vanilla//Normal Townie

You are an IC!))

Sir Wilhelm "Shakerag" Conricht

You are a Knight Banneret of the Iridescent Flame {Normal Town}, an elder and holder of the order's flag and status. You have always been known to be loyal to the King and to his vassals, now having the power to speak your own in their presence. However, due to recent events, your only weapon now would be your tongue and your wisdom in the war of words.

((You are of the Town Faction! You cannot act at Night, being a Vanilla//Normal Townie

You are an IC!))

Sir Devon "Bookthras" Alarai

You are a retired Templar Knight, having served your duty and purpose before the fall of your order. Your name is compared to the legends of your day, having survived the Eastern war with nothing but your tongue, lacking a sword and forgetting your armor. Now, you hear rumors of sabotage and some sort of failed coup happening in the realm, more specifically, an attack on the highest order in the land -- the Order of the Iridescent Flame.

For days you journey to the place where the trials would be held. An aged sanctuary on a mountain, the peasantry greet you by name as you join in with the groups in their ascent.

Now that the trials have begun (and you, satisfied with the ongoings), you pick out certain figures in the list of suspects. Figures that you find, can still speak with in the old common tongue. Your trained eye easily picks out the differences in the knights' gait and posture, their mannerisms and involuntary signs. You wonder how nobody else could discern the innocent from the guilty with this information.

Unfortunately, you know that your name is held high in the eyes of the people, especially by the King himself. Win or lose, you cannot directly aid the Templars in their plot and must remain neutral.

But you can speak to them, obviously.

Due to your extensive knowledge and lore of the land, even those under judgement are able to contact you. The dead, in short.

Players
    Nerjin – Mafia Godfather
    Wsoxfan – Vanilla Townie
    Kamin – Mafia Roleblocker
    kingfisher1112 – Vanilla Townie
    markressler – Town Doctor
    vodot – Vanilla Townie
    Wrex – Town Cop

ICs
    Jim Groovester – Vanilla Townie
    Shakerag – Vanilla Townie

Scum IC
    Dariush – Scum IC

((You are a spoiled spectator! Enjoy your popcorn!))

Spoiler: Night actions/Death Messages -- Townies (click to show/hide)

The First Night

Doctor
> Protect vodot

There is magic or foul play afoot, and you know time is short until whoever did such would strike again. The leader suggests a regale in honor of the Marshall, and of the King so you acquiesce. Better to deliver your type of protection in a feast other than approaching him personally.

As you all dine together, you ensure that your special brand of herbs and spices is passed around the table as a tributary gift, carefully marked to ensure the survival and vigor of your target – that one called ‘vodot’ as well as livening up the dinner.

After the feast, you relax in your quarters, overlooking the nearby lands in all their splendour and lay down to meet your slumber, only to wake up the next morning for the proceeding trial.

Well, at least you had a good dinner!

((You protect vodot))

The Cop
> Argh, lynch.

The battle was of the finest you've ever seen, and will ever see for now. You were the brightest and quickest fighter in the realm, but it seems Justice has caught up to you and your 'crime'.

You can feel being pulled out of your mortal shell, watching the scene from afar before noticing that your combatant -- The Marshall, speaking to you!

Somehow, he can communicate with the dead! And...

You can, also.

Unfortunately, the dead are the only ones you can speak to...The land of the living is now a far dream, and you will only truly rest in peace if your comrades get their wits about, and vanquish the evil among them.

((You have been lynched! That is the link for the deadchat! Hope you had fun! You can still win the game if the Town faction wins!))

The Second Night

The Doctor -- webadict
>Protect vodot - Death.

The long hours of the night pass as you stare out the windows of the Great Hall, thinking on the eclipse while checking your trusty pouch of herbs.

Safety. The Templars won't get you here, you muse. There seems to be a pattern to all this, a death per night. You're sure the person you protect is one of your own.

Kingsfoil, Nightshade, Sage, Thyme, Basil...you've more than enough to last a week's ration, but the toll was faster than your own healing. Who could be so elusive as to escape being seen? The faint silhouettes prove that nothing else is moving, or even stirring as you glance around. It would be dawn soon.

Suddenly, you feel a fire erupt in your lungs, as if the smell of incense is coming from within you. You try to cry out, but fail to get a single word or wheeze from your burning lips. Your pouch falls to the floor, spilling it's contents with you following after. Whether it would be poisoning, or just your specific allergy to squid, you wouldn't know, but bodily spasms and heavy constriction of the air passage does not bode well.

Before darkness overwhelms you, you hear the calming voice of the Marshall, echoing outside. Somehow, his is the last voice you hear.

You are dead. Do you want your possessions identified? (Y/N)

Miscellaneous

kingfisher1112 - die.

Throwing down the gauntlet didn't seem to be a good idea, but at least you're unharmed. Still, to the dungeons you go - you didn't even know this place had a dungeon - for holding while waiting for the trial to rest.

Strangely, you can hear the Marshall's voice, as well as the two before you as you sit in your cell. Waiting...

Perhaps you've gone mad?

But you're speaking with the dead now. Nothing but them, and the stone walls surrounding you.

Shakerag

How amusing. Not even the forces of this place couldn’t prevent the death of a fellowman in the name of justice.

Regardless, you stretch on your bed, calmly counting the disappearing stars and preparing your speech for the new day, having enjoyed a sumptuous feast provided by the leader in honor of the King and the presence of the Marshall. Your thoughts wander off into the night, becoming a rhythm of words and ideas.

That is all broken when you jolt awake, hearing someone rapping on your door. You look at the window outside. Morning.

Fearing tardiness, you hastily grab your sword and answer the call, only to be met by a strange figure cloaked in darkness – wasn’t it already morning? You could see sunlight streaming from behind him, but strangely, nothing of the figure’s identity.

A ghost, a shade, a being of the past returning to haunt you perhaps? A soul of the wars you’ve fought long ago returning for vengeance? They do say that all of you were brought here because judgement was done by a higher power other than man’s decision, but this was going too far!

You question, and receive no answer. You threaten, and silence reigns. You feel your own breathing shift, becoming hoarse and irregular as the seconds pass, as if the being was a semblance of death itself.

Suddenly, it lunges forward with it’s sword, striking at you with a dizzying combination of thrusts, slashes and mixed combat of body and blade. Your years of training and fighting prove you well; if this opponent had been any human at all, you would’ve trounced the interloper on the spot.

But it wasn’t to be. The being turns most of your blows aside, giving only a token few cuts to pass through to feed your hope of survival.

Now pressed between the window and it’s blade, you shout a curse at it in defiance.

“Why do you do this! A Templar, you are! Scoundrel! Murderer! Traitor!-”

It cuts you off with a low, deep tone.

“I am an honest man, my blade shall not taint itself by your blood.

“May the Earth and sky judge you.”

With a kick, you feel several ribs break despite your armor as you stumble and finally fall from the window, meeting the ground with a sickening snap.

Your vision clears, and you can only feel pain all over, but this pain is not of the physical world but of the mental and emotional. Have you done all these to only fail in the end?

No matter, for you feel a presence envelop you. You can feel significant others acknowledging your presence. The clamor of the commonfolk sound around you and you swear you hear the Marshall’s clear tone sound for the last time.

“Providence is deemed to be determined in truth.”

One way or another, you feel at peace knowing that you will be avenged.

((You have been slain!

By the Mafia.

Luckily, your voice is heard by those above. Rest well, Sir Knight.))

Spoiler: Night Actions -- Scum (click to show/hide)

The First Night

The Roleblocker Time is running out, and another interruption to your plans presents itself. There is a magic-user about, but he or she, whatever it is, won’t stop a follower of the cloth from performing his duty. As the other knights round up near the stairwell, along with the leader, you calmly request if there could be a communal feast this evening, with yourself performing the blessing before meals. He accepts and leads all of you to the Great Hall of the Fane for the regale in honor of the King, his vassals, and in good gentlemanly habit. You all seat yourselves around a long rectangular table, cleaned and refurbished for present use, and begin your solemn deed. Bénedic, Dómine, nos et haec tua dona quae de tua largitate sumus sumpturi. Per Christum  Dóminum nostrum. “Amen.” You all say in unison. You move next to each knight in turn, giving them your blessing, keeping them under watchful eye of the Creator above from any malice or scorn for the night. You have marked Jim Groovester to be kept under special notice. After the feast, you slump into bed and wake the next morn, feeling a gentle breeze waft in your room before moving down the lonely halls and entering the courtyard along with the rest. ((You roleblock Jim Groovester))

The Godfather Time is running out, and another interruption to your plans presents itself. There is a magic-user about, but he or she, whatever it is, won’t stop you from performing justice. Before commencing your duty, you ensure that your weapons are ready for it’s designed purpose, enhanced by the doings of your partner. Day is slowly dawning as you make your way past the roaming patrols, using a map provided. You rap on the one called Shakerag’s door and see his confused expression upon seeing you. Wordlessly, you draw your weapon – a personally crafted arming sword and enjoy the sight of him scrambling for his own. He says words you don’t understand, perhaps shouting for guards or calling some other power. You don’t listen. Advancing with your sword raised, you engage in a flurry of strikes befitting of a master swordsman and duelist, parrying every blow and catching him off guard until he is pressed between the window overseeing the courtyard, and your blade. “Why do you do this! A Templar, you are! Scoundrel! Murderer! Traitor!-” “I am an honest man, my blade shall not taint itself by your blood” With that, you deliver a decisive kick to his midsection, sending the aged knight off balance, and watch as he disappears below the window, hurtling into the ground below. You sheathe your sword and quickly leave, only to meet the others at the entry of the courtyard once more for the day's deliberations. Your memory is clouded on why exactly you did such, but this means one less man for the trials. ((Shakerag has been slain!))

The Second Night

The Roleblocker Trapped. In a room with the very people who tried to kill you off, you are glad that you weren't subjected to the same fate as Sir Leon. The dungeons these people have, are worse than what you could believe. Extraction of information by torture, perhaps. One of the crudest ways to get a person to talk, and in your opinion, one of the dumbest. You grab your makeshift censer as you tell the rest about your designated area -- near the door, working your way around the room as you mark the one called 'vodot''s destined area with a prayer. You feel someone watching you as you do such, ensuring he comes to no mischief tonight. As you sleep, you dream of a world at peace, with those of open mind and free of thought able to voice out their word, unfettered by the iron fist of rulers and tyrants. But at what cost? You know your ally has not killed anyone, nor have you. But the death count is rising, per night, like a pattern. Before your mind can dwell on the subject for any longer, you feel the calming radiance of the sun's rays fall on your face, and wake up. To see one more death. ((You roleblock vodot!))

The Godfather Time swiftly passes as the knights choose their location in the Hall. You are separated from your ally to make due with your identity, and through that, your personal belongings. The eclipse was strange, nothing in your plans. Perhaps Map was right in it's words, that magic was involved in this cause. A death per night wasn't a good thing, and even from your eyes it was despicable. As you think about it, you feel your body moving of it's own accord, seeing yourself walk over to the one called 'webadict' like a puppet. Stranger yet, as you turn back, you see your own body in the same pseudo-sleeping position! You're being warped! Your ghostly hands grasp the knight's throat, but you balk at the sight of his protection -- Alrunia, a powerful herb said to cast away any supernatural presence. The Knight falls along with his pouch, but only after the herb manages to come in contact with your 'skin'. You feel it burn you, and scream. Thousands of screams echo around you, and none of them your own. Suddenly, you feel a sharp tug and you return to your body with nary another thought. Soon enough, the light of the morning wakes you from your restful and dreamless slumber. You check your arm, legs and sigil, they're all normal somehow. Perhaps...there really is a wizard. ((You KILL webadict!))

What should have been

_{If not for that last minute shift...}

The Roleblocker

Death.

The sounds grow louder and more apparent as the leader tells his story, you can hear the wailing within the stones and the cries within the rocks, but something is amiss.

Glancing around, it seems that nobody has noticed your mannerisms -- perhaps they couldn't hear what you did? Nevertheless, the sounds grow weak as the group marches on after the reprieve.

A few more steps in, a couple of floors down and another torch lit to replace the last. To aggravate the situation, it is as if the deeper you go, the more distinct the voices become. It's like lapsing into a coma, but...a lucid one. Your leader seems to be in a different shade, an invisible aura forming around him at times. You're sure there is something wrong with him; the furtive glances while most of the group isn't looking or perhaps mumbling to himself at odd intervals. It did sound like swearing, but something is very off, now that you think of it. Glancing at your companion, he doesn't notice a thing after you signal your intention.

This was the Inner Sanctum, and your knowledge of the land returns to you as you decide to act on a hunch. Whoever killed those men would pay, and perhaps...it really was someone on the inside.

Suddenly, you see his aura flare up in an instant, engulfing the passage. You falter, stepping back as the others cast suspicious glances at you. Was that a- it is. The place is swarming with the souls of the dead, and they can't even see it!

You turn heel and run, ignoring the words cast from your group, turning a corridor and taking cover at a nearby alcove. The group passes your location, running as if they caught one of the Templars in their silly game, but you know better. As the sound of their footsteps grow fainter, you stand up and address the general location.

"I fear no evil. Show yourselves to me, spirits and let me be your mediator."

As expected, there is a momentary silence before the air shifts and moves in front of you, white matter coalescing into a human form.

It speaks: "We are the Shackled. Unable to free ourselves from this torment. You, speaker of the Lost, redeem us! Your leader is a Sorcerer! A dealer with the devil! It is he who deigns to lead you to your death!"

You swallow as you think of a reply, even in all your experience, dealing with ghosts was not the best thing you had in mind.

"Then let me free you."

"You are not strong enough. Those who you wish vengeance on, have the key to his death. Go with them, and form an alliance."

"They will not trust me after that affront. But I live and breath, and I can still act."

"Then follow us."

You acquiesce to the spirit's request, following the ghost who acts as your light source down a different path than where your leader was heading.

You sense other spirits as you move along the path, souls of those who died in what may have been his work. Your vengeance will have to wait, and ((you cannot communicate on the Templar chat)) given the situation, but you have a feeling it will all be right in the end.

Grasping your Morningstar tightly, you can also hear the faint echo of the Marshall in the distance. Strangely, it seems that he is nearby, but...on a different, deeper path than what you take.

Spoiler: Night Actions -- tl;dr (click to show/hide)

Night 1
markressler - protect vodot
Kamin - roleblock Jim Groovester
Nerjin - kill Shakerag

Night 2
webadict - protect vodot
Nerjin - kill webadict
Kamin - roleblock vodot

I was secretly rooting for the town. -_-

Somehow, I feel like I messed something up...not @ the game but still something.

[Shakerag]

Unvote vote Pranz

Ahh, ye olde classic scum maneuver.  Well played.

[Urist Imiknorris]

Bastard. That happened to me in my first game. I had the guy marked as scum, then he tied the vote five minutes from day end.

[Pranz]

Well fuck me. Why wasn't my vote counted? in it's orignal quoted form i marked Nerjin in red.

[Hapah]

I don't think votes in quotes are typically counted, because it would be a huge pain in the ass in any game with hammers (you would have to manually read every quote you insert and remove any votes). Someone correct me if I'm wrong, though.

And basically, mods are humans like the rest of us, and you want to make life as easy for them as possible: keep the votes outside of quotes and spoilers. Heck, mods miss votes that are out in plain sight from time to time. You did good to repost, but I can't fault Tir for missing it.

[Nerjin]

Please allow me to quote something from scum chat "Yes! YES!" Also... What was the deal with the templars? Why did they go crazy like that? Is it them or some higher power?

[Nerjin]

Also good game. Anything I could have done better on?