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[Hapah]

Shorten.

[Urist Imiknorris]

Shorten. It'd be hilarious if the Kommandant was an Allied spy.

[Shakerag]

Also ... if zombie urist had access to all chats, then he'd know there were no actual Nazi players. 

Everyone, did your pre-game flavor indicate the presence of Jim/zu?  Because it seems like he was at a meeting with everyone on my team.

[Hapah]

Yeah.

[Urist Imiknorris]

Mine as well. Walter Quigley (me), Brett Parker (BMC), Andrew Lyndon (Toaster), and Daniel Ward (ZU) all met up beforehand to go over the mission.

[Hapah]

Actually, let me check

[zombie urist]

I knew no nazi. Nazi dunno wher power source is. Need other country help. Pfp

[zombie urist]

My fake clams all met with respective teams. Sent body double.

[Hapah]

Yeah he was there

PPE That would explain it

[Toaster]

I take it ZU had a block, and thought it'd be easier to manipulate if I didn't screw with the votes that night. It also explains why no one called out blocking me and the obv-votesteal I had.

Oh well.  Shorten.  I'll steal IO's vote tonight- Dariush, I hope you block him.

[Toaster]

PS "Ward" was late and left early

[lordnincompoop]

Shorten request has been acknowledged.

I'll get to this when I can.

[lordnincompoop]

Night 4 Has Begun!

Votecount:

zombie urist	- 4 -	Urist Imiknorris, Hapah, Hapah, Shakerag,
Toaster	- 0 -
Dariush	- 0 -
IronyOwl	- 0 -
Urist Imiknorris	- 0 -
Hapah	- 0 -
Shakerag	- 0 -
-
Not Voting	- 0 -
No Lynch	- 3 -	Dariush, Toaster, zombie urist
-
Extend	- 0 -
Shorten	- 4 -	Shakerag, Hapah, Urist Imiknorris, Toaster

Night had already fallen, and the stars were out.

The rain fell about them in great surges, an insistent electric thrum that blanketed the forest. Surrounded by the gnarled giants, dark and black in the dimness of the dying dusk, in moments brightly illuminated, ghostly silhouettes starkly painted against the fiery white light of exploding lightning, stand the two men, the Kommandant and the Fated, motionless in the heart of darkness, thronged by silent watchers.

The soldiers had deliberated long. They were angry, and united, unanimous in their desire to kill, tonight when the Kommandant had come. There was no hesitation when they named their target: Karl Dunst. The traitor, they whispered amongst themselves, the turncoat. They spat at him as he was drawn out of the crowd, into the cold open. He shivered, drew his coat tight around him, as the Kommandant unholstered his revolver with a muffled click from within his jacket.

And there they stood, facing each other. The others had quietened, then begun moving, fidgeting out of nervousness in the suddenly still air, then stopped, frozen, as the cold emanated from the two in the middle of the clearing. They gazed upon one another in silence.

Here they still stand, timeless, motionless. The unceasing curtains of rain buffet them both, and drench the watchers - soon, they shiver, too cold, too wet. The pair remains - resolute, indomitable.

Then, as if he had enough, Karl lowers his gaze, then shuts his eyes. The air cracks as a single shot is loosened, and he falls to the ground.

Before the Kommandant can say the word, the others come toward the body to search it - he watches them in silence. Triumphantly, one of them takes out a Soviet passport and papers, as well as a handful of small pages of notes in cryptic, unreadable Cyrillic. The Kommandant, approaching them now, takes the passport and papers and leafs through them. After staring for several moments at a page in the passport, he holds it up in the air.

“Good work. We have killed a spy. This passport is for Nikolai Ivanovich Kuznetsov.”

“Now, retire to your tents for the night. We’ll begin anew tomorrow.” He looks them over for a while before walking off, sheltering himself from the rain under the wide lapels of his trenchcoat.


Karl “zombie urist” Dunst was lynched! He was a Soviet Mastermind.


The Night will end Monday, 8PM GMT.

[lordnincompoop]

Day 5 Has Begun!

Votecount:

Toaster	- 0 -
Dariush	- 0 -
IronyOwl	- 0 -
Urist Imiknorris	- 0 -
Hapah	- 0 -
Shakerag	- 0 -
-
Not Voting	- 6 -	Urist Imiknorris, Hapah, Shakerag, Dariush, Toaster, Toaster
No Lynch	- 0 -
-
Extend	- 0 -
Shorten	- 0 -

The soldiers are ushered out into the camp, just before the break of dawn. The forest, still blue in the sleepy twilight, yawns and sighs, its leaves whispering its slow, quiet speech. The air today is brisk, and leafy, hinting at a coming autumn despite the leaves, a mellow turquoise green early in the day.

The Kommandant strides out from his tent, rubbing what little sleep there was last night from his eyes and adjusting his great coat. He approaches the empty centre of the clearing with the others, lighting a cigarette.

He takes one or two drags before beginning. “Here we are, at the fifth day. Men, consider yourselves fortunate for having been effective at eliminating the spies so far. We should not be far from properly resuming the mission.” The men look at each other, but say nothing. The Kommandant paces around the edge of the grass, gazing into the remaining men’s eyes. “You are the Führer’s elite. We will be expected to return successful, not with our tails between our legs. Understand the necessity of this.” He shivers a little in the morning cold - he draws his coat closer around him and takes a long drag from the cigarette. “I expect you’re all familiar with the proceedings. You will discuss until sundown, and by then, whether or not you have a suspect ready, we will eliminate one person from our camp.”

“You may begin,” he says, before walking away to watch from a distance.

Halfway, however, he pauses and turns. “There’s some coffee over there,” he points. “It’s cold, though.”


The Day will end Wednesday, 8PM GMT.

[Dariush]

IO.