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[lordnincompoop]

Damn.  That's why I wanted two witches dead before we knifed the elf.  See my last question to Urist McA the next to last day- I realized he was lying about the inspect, at least.  I had the tiniest niggle of doubt that Urist McA was being kept alive for a reason.

At least I called it on him and Native.  Oh well- great game!


Why did I get such a townie inspect on Urist I?  Did I *hardcore* misread it or something?

I'd tell you, but then I'd have to kill you.


Look over your role a bit more thoroughly.

[Urist Imiknorris]

Post it here so we can look over it a bit more thoroughly. I'm curious because Darvi obviously isn't going to be posting role PMs and night actions.

[Toaster]

Ooo, I get it now.  Tricky!

By the way, Dariush:  Your fate from WC1 was mentioned in my role PM- you ambushed the remaining inquisitors and blew up half of them.  Anyone else who played both get a reference to their old character?

[Darvi]

Post it here so we can look over it a bit more thoroughly. I'm curious because Darvi obviously isn't going to be posting role PMs and night actions.

Yeah I'm gonna post role PM's now. Can't post actions though because half of the action  log is on the laptop which I cannot access. But you know everything already except for Dariush's protects (JIm and then Toaster).

Toaster: look what made those inspects that were reliable (Native, Think, and PM even though he was a miller) and those that weren't (Urist, Vector, Jim) differ from each other.

[Darvi]

Spoiler: Dariush (click to show/hide)

You are Thomas Downer, a physician.

During most days, customers seeking medicine or cures for minor ailments can find you in the plaza in front of the church, beside a renovated wagon serving as your stall. You do have a house in the city here, of course - it functions mostly as a ward and storage, and though the top floor is minimally furnished for accomodation, you often end up sleeping behind the desk or beside an occupied bed downstairs - and should people need it, they can come by at an appointed time to deal with more serious illnesses.

Though there are many other vendors in the plaza, there are few other doctors and apothecaries. Those that do come by often quickly leave after seeing few patients and little attention; your skill and regularity has served well to draw customers to your corner.

In fact, looking around the city and meeting other members of your profession often leaves you a little disgusted - belief in the "Four Humours" (a frankly rather laughable remnant of medical tradition) is still widespread, along with other silly remedies like bleeding and praying. "They're all just witch doctors and mystics," you'd often tell your clients, and they thoroughly deserved it.

No, you ascribe to an entirely different school of thought - one based on observation, rigorous experimentation and common sense. Though practice of medicine firmly rooted in the realities of the world, allows you to cure more things than most, you've repeatedly found that your job has become much more difficult as of late - with the rapid growth and overcrowding in these cities, you often have people coming to you for a cure to things you've never seen before, the all-too-common hacking cough or even typhoid. Many, you know, are unavoidable, and far too many are incurable. It pains you, but often, the best you can do for the working masses is to try to ease their symptoms until they perish.

Despite your eternal dismay at the growing suffering of the people, however, you retained faith in the relentless progress of the nation - after all, within the last few decades, the march of progress has allowed for numerous miraculous things - so, when today you witnessed the priests set up a large gallows in front of the church and were told it was for the witch hunt, you couldn't help but feel your heart sink. You had in all earnest believed that civilisation had moved far away from that embarrassing chapter of history, and seeing it make a remission was disappointing beyond words.

You won't let innocent people die while you're around, though. When it starts, you'll make sure to stick around - perhaps you'll manage to save a few after they've hung them; the clergy is notoriously incompetent at execution, anyhow.

*    *    *    *    *

You are the Doctor.

Wincon: Eliminate all Witches, Witch-aligned entities, magical entities and killers present from the game.

(Power) (Night) Play Doctor: You may target one player each Night to save them from a single kill that Night. You are not allowed to self-target.

Spoiler: ECF (click to show/hide)

You are Lawrence Erewaker, grammar school Latin teacher.

At heart, you were always a travelling man. You used to hike through the forests and mountains with your father and his friends even as a child - some would have called it a "feral upbringing", possibly with upturned noses, but you found it simply to be a character-building exercise. And before you know it, you had become enamoured with the country, with wild living.

Perhaps that was part of the reason you moved out from your parents as soon as you could; though hiking was all well and good, your family consisted entirely of lawyers, judges and others - fit lawyers, perhaps, but lawyers nonetheless - and had given you a good education and a very urban background. But you wanted to be in the country, close to nature, and so you moved into a smaller town further up north, taking a position in a school there as a Latin teacher.

Not exactly a sporting job, but with an education in law and the languages, what else would you be able to pursue?

You still retain your spirit for adventure, though. Each year, while your students are away during the summer break, you travel to the city on foot with nothing but your luggage, the clothes on your back (you always dressed thinly verging on the inappropriate - it was to "feel the weather", as you'd always say) and a good set of shoes. Stopping by smaller towns on the way, taking a different route each time to see new things, always visiting your folks with some wild flowers. Recently, you've even taken to keeping a journal with drawings and descriptions of nice places.

So, you reckon, you'd seen your fair share of storms and shady inns, but this time was rather different.

You were much too busy this summer, due to certain not entirely unpreventable circumstances. You were busy writing up a dissertation for a very important paper that had to be done by the end of it - avoidable if you had done it earlier during the school term, but a very difficult proposition considering the amount of work that would normally go into a standard course. You had difficulty coping with your students' antics already, and writing a vital essay on top of that, though epitomising the phrase "tempered by the fire and the flames", was not something you wanted to go through at that point.

And so you sacrificed your summer working, and managed to secure leave for the autumn term to hike to the city. When you began, you had already known that it wasn't an ideal time of year for cross-country travel, but you had proceeded nonetheless - rather foolishly, in retrospect.

The country, facing increasing rainfall due to the approaching autumn had turned into a mire of wetlands and treacherous rivers. The mood in the towns was at an all-time low, and were as cold as the weather around them - each day was a fight against the elements, slogging through rain and mud, each night a hidden struggle of wills, masked under angry glares and sly comments by English propriety (or rather, in this case, English cruelty).

You arrived at the city at midnight on the last days of October, in the nick of time. Cold, damp and a tad miserable, you waded through the dark, sooty streets to the nearest hostel and took "any room" - finding your parents in this mess of houses and factories (you never kept around an address; little slips of paper like those would always get lost and you never had enough use for an address book) would come later, perhaps at dawn.

*    *    *    *    *

You are a Villager.

Wincon:  Eliminate all Witches, Witch-aligned entities, magical entities and killers present from the game.

Spoiler: Jack (click to show/hide)

You are the Witch Maiden.

Being a Maiden - the youngest of the three - you are generally placed in the position of a student and apprentice to the Mother and Crone.

Though born an elf in the magical Fairyland, you had never felt quite at home with their bonfires and orgies. The incumbent Elven Queen, notorious for her cruelty even amongst the elves, killed her drones and workers at will. Taking great joy in the harvesting of humans, she had set out on the Hunt as often as once every two weeks - and even though you knew you needed it for your survival and growth, you deplored every action and every minute of it. The others treated these creatures like animals, slaughtering and and exploiting them with no care for their feelings or their plight, but you knew that they should be treated - no, deserved to be treated - better than that.

This was primarily why you had been selected very early on by the Witches to become their Maiden. As the Elves would never forgive someone for fraternising with "the livestock", your unique relationship with the humans has been kept a secret, and you've lead a double life for decades. You were content to merely sabotage some of their operations from within, communicating occasionally with the witches to share news and opinion.

That is, until at your coming-of-age ceremony, the Queen decided to organise another Hunt - this time targeting a major city, and with you in tow when leading it.

The other witches had sensed this upcoming event some time beforehand, but had chosen not to tell you. Now, however, the crone considered the recent profusion of Elven invasions to be significant enough to warrant its consideration as an imbalance in the Way of Things. It needed to be dealt with, and while there, the witches explained, we could investigate signs of another, more sinister presence.

Thus, you would go along with their plans for the time being - women like you would never be able to face up to a direct assault against most things, nevermind the Elves - and by taking advantage of the rising tension already present in the city, sabotage their efforts to assimilate the unsuspecting townsfolk from within. Remembering the past incidents with witch hunts, the crone added that subdual of the townsfolk would most likely be necessary as well.

You came with the sunset, and as the royal couple charmed their way through the main gates posing as a two-man acting troupe (the Queen was no man, but it rarely mattered to the humans) you waited outside and, as per the directions of your coven sisters, possessed a citizen inside. Fidning yourself in a new body was disorienting at first, and had you not found yourself comfortably in bed in a cordwainer's workshop you're certain you'd have freaked out.

You had become Giles Dynham, a famed but rather reclusive cordwainer. The house was quite literally full of shoemaking equipment, as if that was the only thing he did with his time, but strangely no shoes - on each rack was a scrawled note saying "Sold out, wait for next leather shipment. There were a few incompetently made paintings on the walls, dusty with age, and old notes for strange stories, but that was the extent to which you could see his pastimes.

You, knowing nothing about shoemaking and shoe repair, are forced to close the shop for the duration of your stay. A potential customer finding out about the swap would be disastrous.

The witches' advice still rang clearly in your head. You were to rendezvous with the Elves for the time being.

"So, what next?" you asked.

"Go with them for the time being. We'll wait until something happens."

And so, returning to the Elves, you ask about the next step.

"The Hunt will begin tonight. I'll make sure to bring you along for the first blood," the Queen said.

Your heart sank, but you trusted the Witches. Perhaps something good will come of this after all.

"Don't worry, my dear daughter. I'll make sure we'll have fun - I know just the place to find a few screamers."

*    *    *    *    *

You are the Witch Maiden/Elven Princess.

Wincon: Eliminate all Villagers, killers and magical entities from the game.

(Passive) (Magical) (Day) (Night) Witches' Coven: You may speak with your fellow Witches whenever you wish.

(Passive) (Magical) (Day) (Night) Elven Traitor: The Elves will consider you to be part of their faction, and are not aware of your betrayal. You may freely communicate with the Elves in a private chat. They will believe your role to be "Elven Princess". Gameplay-wise, you will not be considered a member of their faction for them to fulfill their wincon.

(Passive) (Magical) (Day) (Night) Affinity: You have a medium-high chance of being notified of a magical presence or action.

Spoiler: Jim (click to show/hide)

You are the Queen of the Elves.

The incumbent Queen of Fairyland, your position is one of great import; most of your people's daily affairs are handled through you, and you set dates and lead anything from the Hunts to coming-of-age ceremonies. Each new moon, you would lead the Elves out on a great Hunt across the human world, slaughtering as many as you can for food and using the rest as material to procreate.

There is, of course, a King of the Elves - with whom you have a relationship that could perhaps be most aptly described in terms of chess; the Queen is ostensibly the more powerful, but ultimately fails without the King. Taking a position of mild disinterest, the King has not made his authority known often (preferring to let you take care of most of the work), but you know that it does indeed exist.

Once you rose to the throne, however, you organised the Hunts to occur every two weeks, and took to the habit of culling unfit Elves - many were, as a result, fearful of you and your authority, but you had good reason - the Elven race was beginning to dwindle in numbers, and as Elves could not have children of their own, the only solution was to steal more from the humans.

Your daughter, sadly enough, was one of the principal detractors. She believed in human rights and welfare (as if they needed those), and refused to participate in many of them. That was why, at her coming-of-age ceremony, you decided to organise the single largest Hunt of all, targeting a major human population centre, with her firmly in tow. She was, surprisingly enough, interested, and the three of you hatched a plan for the invasion.

You came with the sunset, opening a rift into the mundane world. As she attempted to break inside by taking control of a hapless human within the walls, you charmed your way in through the front gates with the King, posing as a two-man acting troupe from the capital. You were to call yourself Hugh Pemberton, a skilled singer and actor with an unfortunate lack of formal education.

Though it was much too late in the night to do anything for now, come dawn and next sunset, you will be ready to assemble your Elves and begin assimilating choice humans.

*    *    *    *    *

You are the Queen of the Elves.

Wincon: Overwhelm, eliminate or subdue all threats and challenges to your faction's dominance in the game.

(Power) (Magical) (Night) Assimilate: Each Night, you may target one non-Elf player to assimilate into your faction, a powerless Elf. You may not use Assimilate if your King is dead. If both of you die, all Elves will commit suicide. You may not use this ability during Night 0.

(Power) (Magical) (Night) Kingmaker: If the King dies, you may target an existing Elf for that Night to promote to the role of King of the Elves. You may not use Kingmaker on the Elven Princess or yourself. You cannot use Assimilate the same Night.

(Passive) (Magical) (Day) (Night) Elven Minds: You may freely communicate with your Elves in a private chat.

(Passive) (Night) Maternal Affection: If the Elven Princess dies, you will go into a two-Night Mourning period in which you cannot use any Night ability.

Spoiler: NF (click to show/hide)

You are the Witch Mother.

As the Mother - that is, the middle one - you role has traditionally been to witness birth, and the creation of life. You were, in a past life, a midwife, and had five children. You still do, of course, but they're old enough not to need your help. A generally cheery sort, but you can be serious when you want to be.

Your role in the group dynamics of the coven is typically as the mediator between the often strict crone and the passionate maiden, being a companion for the former and a nurturing figure to the latter. It is, perhaps, rather fortuitous that you proved to be so adept at the role, for your coven runs along a rather different grain. The maiden was recruited from the Elves - which is traditionally a cruel, cannibalistic and generally unsympathetic race, but this girl had shown promise early on with her magic and unusual empathy. You're not quite sure what the Crone saw in her, seeing as a portion of her behavour seemed to be fuelled by teenage rebellion, but it was evidently important enough to warrant recruitment into the coven as a Maiden.

As it turned out, it was - a few months ago, the Crone had told you of visions of an impending disturbance in the Way of Things, and of many deaths to come. As neither of you had much information to go on, you thought little of it then - but now, things seemed indicative of a power shift in Fairyland. Elven Hunts, where massive numbers of Elves would appear at a time to savage human population hubs, consuming and assimilating people as the go, became all the more frequent. People wouldn't be able to afford more attacks before progress becomes stunted and industry stagnates - and visiting villages and towns yourself, you had seen first-hand the effects. People were frightened and suffered greatly. Superstition was on the rise, and so was witch hunting. Not only that, but you felt something else present - a certain, rather more sinister presence.

So, when you heard news from the Maiden that the Elves were planning a massive Hunt in a major city for her coming-of-age ceremony, the situation had become too much to bear. You needed to take action.

Thus, you hatched a plan to sabotage the Hunt, to weaken them and to investigate the presence all in one fell swoop. As it happened, the strangeness had originated from the same city the Elves were staging their attack in - so, using the Maiden to work against the Elves from within (no coven, no matter how strong, would be able to stand a face-to-face fight against such a powerful adversary), you would sabotage their mission and be in an ideal position to further divine details about the phenomenon.

The Maiden left with the other Elves at sunset. You and the Crone would stay outside the city walls, borrowing the body of some sod within to work inside.

You possessed the body of a Julian Hutchinson, a bartender in a popular district watering hole.  He did not have a house for himself; rather, he had a room in the tavern in a wing reserved for staff (this was the secret to the establishment's non-stop opening hours). Several fat tomes on drink mixing lay by the dresser, and he seemed to have a fondness for poetry - you found several scattered about the room, and the bottom dresser drawer was packed full with them.

Though you'll have no problems working your shift, you must still be careful; if you die in this body, you yourself will die along with it.

*    *    *    *    *

You are the Witch Mother.

Wincon: Eliminate all Villagers, killers and magical entities from the game.

(Power) (1-shot) (Magical) (Night) Rebirth: You may resurrect player. The player will retain the alignment he or she had in death, and any powers left.

(Passive) (Magical) (Day) (Night) Witches' Coven: You may speak with your fellow Witches whenever you wish.

(Passive) (Magical) (Day) (Night) Affinity: You have a small chance of being notified of a magical presence or action.

Spoiler: NUKE (click to show/hide)

You are the King of the Elves.

Though the Queen of Fairyland (also known as the Queen of the Elves) is generally a much more publicly visible station, running most of the day to day affairs (not that you have anything against that), you continue to retain a large amount of power.

Your relationship with the Queen of the Elves is decidedly complex, and could perhaps be most aptly described in terms of chess; the Queen is ostensibly the more powerful, but remains protective of and dependent on the King. Taking a position of mild disinterest, you prefer to let your wife run most of the day-to-day chores of running a nation. Though you do not often make your authority known, it is a quiet presence that always exists in the back of the Elven mind.

With the new regime, the Queen and you organised the Hunts to occur every two weeks, and took to the habit of culling unfit Elves - many were, as a result, fearful of the royal couple's authority, but you had good reason - the Elven race was beginning to dwindle in numbers, and as Elves could not have children of their own, the only solution was to steal more from the humans.

Your daughter, sadly enough, was one of the principal detractors. She believed in human rights and welfare (as if they needed those), and refused to participate in many of them. That was why, at her coming-of-age ceremony, your wife decided to organise the single largest Hunt of all, targeting a major human population centre, with her firmly in tow. She was, surprisingly enough, interested, and the three of you hatched a plan for the invasion.

You came with the sunset, opening a rift into the mundane world. As she attempted to break inside by taking control of a hapless human within the walls, you charmed your way in through the front gates with the Queen, posing as a two-man acting troupe from the capital. You were to call yourself Walter Bloom, the leader of the enterprise and a budding entrepreneur, with a talent for music and speech.

Though it was much too late in the night to do anything for now, come dawn and next sunset, you will be ready to assemble your Elves and begin assimilating choice humans.

*    *    *    *    *

You are the King of the Elves.

Wincon: Overwhelm, eliminate or subdue all threats and challenges to your faction's dominance in the game.

(Passive) (Magical) (Night) Patriarch: You are required to be present for the Queen's Assimilate power to function.

(Passive) (Magical) (Day) (Night) Elven Minds: You may freely communicate with your Elves in a private chat.

Spoiler: Ottofar (click to show/hide)

You are Giles Oxenbrigg, a textile factory worker and a father of two.

Work in the factories is tough, and poorly compensated, but it's the only job you'll ever be able too get. You're an uneducated, mostly illiterate worker - having no training and no worthwhile characteristics, there is quite simply no other position that you would qualify for.

The building is warm and damp to prevent the delicate cotton thread from breaking, the thundering noise from the grey machines was deafening, and the air is always stuffy and filled with fibrous dust; you'd come home with a hacking cough each night, breath filled with the cotton fibres accumulated over the course of the work day. The wages are barely enough to sustain yourself, let alone pay for lodgings and feed two children. Both of them - a girl and a boy, aged ten and twelve - have to take a job each to make enough money, working as a chimney sweep and a hurrier in a coal mine.

Enough to pay for food and rent, and if you save it up, enough for a sweet during Halloween and a sock or something small during Christmas.

It's difficult, living as a single father in this city. There was a Mrs. Oxenbrigg once, but working int eh factory alongside you proved to be too difficult for her; the hours were too long and the cotton dust simply too pervasive, and she fell ill with pneumonia. A few years ago, she had passed away during the night, leaving you with the two children.

"She's off to a better place, now," you'd tell yourself and the children when the going got hard.

When they left, though, you'd often add "and I wish I could go too." Living like this was no fun at all.

Then, when you heard about the witch hunts, you felt a little vindicated. "Here," the clergy said, "is the root of all evil, of all suffering." It felt good to have something concrete to blame your troubles on, something to exact revenge on. Though it hasn't yet started, you can't wait for sunrise, when the hunt will begin.

*    *    *    *    *

You are a Villager.

Wincon:  Eliminate all Witches, Witch-aligned entities, magical entities and killers present from the game.

(Passive) (Day) Anti-Lurking System: If you do not post at least once every 24 hours, you will die.

Spoiler: PM (click to show/hide)

You are Samuel Parris, a tailor.

You run a relatively affluent clothing store and haberdashery in the city, having serviced numerous influential customers over the course of its inception. There is very little you don't know about tailoring and fashion - and if there is a gap in your knowledge, you're more than eager to fill it (perhaps one of your most significant advantages over your competitors).

Tailoring is the only thing you're passionate about, nowadays. It's a fulfilling pursuit, and seeing a customer "out there", so to speak, wearing a garment of yours always perks your day up somewhat. You used to paint, and you've got all the paint tubes and brushes and canvases lying about somewhere, but you haven't tried finding them for a long time and you're preetty you're you're too busy to do anything about it now.

You're generally an up-front, honest kind of person, and most people you know respect you for that - but you're astonishingly secretive whenn it comes toy our marriage. You've been married twice, and both times your wife has disappeared in not-quite fully understood circumstances. Rumour's been going around about arguments and liquor, and people have been getting suspicious. Though you've hidden it well in the past, it seems that the truth may come out eventually.

And that's why, when the news of the witch hutn came to your doorstep, you were worried. Things like this tended to bring out the worst in people, and with the rough patch you were going through right now, it felt like you were at the top of the list.

*    *    *    *    *

You are a Villager.

Wincon:  Eliminate all Witches, Witch-aligned entities, magical entities and killers present from the game.

Spoiler: Simple (click to show/hide)

You are Stephen Engleford, younger brother of the recently-deceased Anthony Engleford.

Having moved out of your village to seek education and a career at a young age (rather unlike your brother, God rest his soul), you have now risen to the respectable position of Senior Printing Supervisor at a renowned publishing and printing company, capitalising on the discovery of the new technology and the subsequent creation of this not-entirely-new industry.

You were never much of a people person - in fact, you felt much more at home with machines. Your family thought it a little strange, but it was liveable - and more importantly, it secured you a good job in the city. The rise of industry wasn't exactly a predictable thing, but it came fortuitously enough.

With the popularisation of the printing press, it felt only natural for you to make a career there - not only were you intimately familiar with its mechanics, but you were an avid reader and helping promote literacy seemed like a worthy pursuit indeed. You still nab a few books off the press if you spot a good one - the grease monkeys usually don't report them, and as you had few in positions above you, you were seldom caught. Over the years, you've managed to amass quite the collection - there is enough romance, philosophy and science on your shelves to rival the collections of those significantly wealthier than you, and you take every spare moment to make use of it.

Perhaps not a fully intended effect of the press, but it was one that you appreciated nonetheless.

All in all, you live quite comfortably in a quaint little two-storey house by yourself. You're not especially religious, but you attend church every Sunday despite that fact, and have done so since childhood - it's "just in case", you'd often joke, but you can't help but feel a little spiritual during those sermons.

It was put to the test, however, when tonight you learned that a witch hunt was about to begin. Being uninterestingly unsuperstitious, you had never thought much of all those silly stories and didn't personally believe in witches or creatures of a magical nature. But you weren't one to question authority, either - you trusted in the wisdom of your superiors.

So when these same leaders called for a witch hunt, you couldn't help but feel a little confused; you didn't know what to think or who to trust, split between salt-of-the-earth sensibility and loyalty. You've got a sneaking suspicion that you'll have to participate, too - and if you do, you have no idea what'll happen.

*    *    *    *    *

You are a Villager.

Wincon:  Eliminate all Witches, Witch-aligned entities, magical entities and killers present from the game.

Spoiler: Think (click to show/hide)

You are Simon MacTurlough, an out-of-work sailor.

You recently immigrated here on a trade ship from Ireland, hoping to find food and work here in the British mainland, and you regret it already. Here, though the famine is absent, you could find no work besides a short stint in a textile factory (which you lost to a bratty little kid with nimble fingers), and poverty is close enough. With many of your friends back in Ireland, you had little do and nobody to do it with. "I'm just in between jobs," you'd often tell people, and though was technically correct, it didn't make you feel much better.

And until you could find the next line of work, you were effectively living off of savings and alms. Though the hostess at the house you were renting room and board at had absolved you of rent 'til then, being a religious type (much like you, in fact) and having another member of the flock suffering pained her so, you still had to pay a pretty penny for letters and postage back home - so much, in fact, that within the week, you wouldn't be able to afford any more. Since nobody wanted to hire "some Irish drunkard", you felt impossibly lost, and would spend much of your time in church praying.

Yesterday was possibly your lowest in a while. You spent the entire day on the benches, praying and crying - few others were there, it being only a Wednesday, but even if you had gone on a Sunday you suspect you'd still have broken down. At the end of it all, it made one last weak request and fell asleep.

You woke up to the sound of church bells, ringing clear and loud. When you came outside, you saw the clergy preparing a large gallows in the middle of the square, fringed by rays of light. "This must be a sign," you thought. "This is where I belong."

As it turned out, the gallows were for a witch hunt. Though even the clerics turned you down, you swore that during the hunt, you would help them as best you could.

*    *    *    *    *

You are a Vigilante.

Wincon: Eliminate all Witches, Witch-aligned entities, magical entities and killers present from the game.

(Power) (Night) Vigilantekill: You may kill one Player each night. You cannot use this power during Night 0.)

[Urist_McArathos]

Man, that was a close one.  Think saved our assess with that missed kill on Native.  Also, love the term "Batman Gambit".

[Darvi]

Spoiler: TB/Vector (click to show/hide)

You are Shemaiah Taylor, Ringer of the Bells.
 
 You wish your parents were here to see this. To see their son, finally doing something good for the world. The Reverend would be proud, too. His sermons were about how  we all needed to find a way to do good in the world, how we needed to find some way to matter. Your parents kept telling you how you needed to improve, and you took it to heart. They were strict, but loving.
 
 When you wore your white linen robes, embroidered with silken thread and pearls for your coming of age, you felt worried, saddened. When splashed with the sheep's blood to show the coming of age, it would have been a lie to say that you did not feel emotion. When you were ordered to leave the compound to seek your own ends, you felt ecited. Here was an opportunity to prove yourself.
 
 When you did, maybe they'd let you see your parents again.
 
 But when you left, you did not worry. You had been instructed to enter a nearby city, and you did so without fear or hesitation. And within, you found your true calling.
 
 For when you came to the city, you had heard the voice of God, dark and luscious. "Sound all the bells in these towers," he told you, "let them ring clear and true together, and summon me from my slumber." You had been touched, blessed by the good Lord himself.
 
 "You will know that your work has to begin when the northernmost tower sounds its bell. Go forth, my child, but beware - there are those who wish to condemn you, Son of Man, to death, and deliver you to their holy men to mock, and to scourge, and to crucify."
 
 And, sure enough, the belltower sounded at sunset. Sleep could be had later; you were holding a divine mandate in your hands.
 
 
 *    *    *    *    *
 
 You are the Ringer of the Bells.
 
 Wincon: Ring all the bells in the correct manner, then eliminate all other players with the summoned God.
 
 (Power) (Day) (Night) For Whom the Bell Tolls: Each Day and Night phase, you may choose to toll any one bell of your choosing from the five bell-towers placed in the north, northwest, northeast, southeast and southwest sections of the city via a PM to the mod. The bell will be audible to all players, and will be announced in the day end/start flavour.
 
 (Passive) (1-shot) (60%) (Day) Resurrection: When lynched, you have a 60% chance of having the lynch fail. Your alignment and role will not be revealed - only failure of the hanging.

Spoiler: Toaster (click to show/hide)

You are Edmund Thorne, Grand Inquisitor.

The existence of the Inquisition, especially in the present day, a little-known fact - the organisation operates with a much lower profile than it has done in the past, in large part thanks to your changes in protocol when you rose to lead it. Officially, it no longer exists, having been disbanded by the Church some time ago, in the real world nevertheless continues to receive both funding and orders from the Church.

A recent string of requests for witch hunts has brought a new wave of prductivity to the organisation, and most Inquisitor have already left to travel to distant town and villages to execute their orders. You, as the leader of this secret fighting force, would normally take on a much more administrative position, but with the influx of tasks and worrying reports of magical events in the countryside has forced you into action. While the others dealt with the villages, you travelled to this city  by horseback, arriving during the night. A huge grey monstrosity of huddled houses amidst towering factories spewing smog, the urban milieu was a far cry from the places you normally operated in.

Your task is simple - to infiltrate the city and its Church, to set up a witch hunt, and lead both parties in the background.

Though the clergy initially proved to be difficult to convince, they eventually complied with a hunt (with the use of some less savoury measures), and convinced the governors in turn to allow you to station two Inquisitors at each gate of the city to kill anyone to tries to come in or out. Posing as a travelling tutor, you rented a room facing the plaza at a nearby hostel to keep an eye on things, moving the bed beside the window. Though a difficult task in such a large city, you will do your best to investigate the cases of witchcraft presented to you, and any eventual crimes or rumours that you may hear long the way. Once you have succeeded with your order, and eliminated the heretics, you will leave at the earliest opportunity under cover of darkness.

As you sleep, however, you are reminded of Inquisitor Daubernon's disappearance, way back when the Inquisition was still official to some degree. The remainder of his group had reported that they had seen real magic and horrible murders when investigating a case much like this one, at the end of which he had died and half their group was killed by a wizard attack on the way back. It sounded fantastical, and had you not seen the evidence for yourself you would not have believed it, but you had, and believe it you did.

You toss and turn it your bed for the night, unable to sleep. You can only hope you won't end up like him.

*    *    *    *    *

You are the Inquisitor.

Wincon: Eliminate all Witches and magical entities present from the game.

(Power) (Night) Investigate: You may use Investigate a player up to three times each Night (you may choose different targets for each use). You will receive flavour information about the targets, which will increase in specificity and helpfulness with each successive use on a player.

Spoiler: Urist I (click to show/hide)

You are Allen Underhill, a glazier.

Working as part of a team in a prominent glassmaking workshop, you are in the middle of a very large and very well-compensated commision from a local lord to replace his windows with glazed ones. As making them on-site would be too cumbersome, you make each panel in-house, leadlines and all, and install them once they are transported over.

The commision was due in three days, and with the work being unexpectedly held up by a significant delay in an important glass delivery, you spent most of the day indoors, blowing and painting glass and assempling them into windows. It's tough work, but the contract is huge and the payoff will be excellent.

There are, of course, plenty other things you do besides make glass. You're a budding writer, and with a friend in the publishing industry who's promised to read your latest book, things are looking up. Along with that, you're an outdoorsman, an amateur vintner, an entusiastic cook and a dabbling tailor. None of these hobbies of your has brought any money, however, and sometimes you find it difficult to keep up with all of them at the same time. You realise it'll be difficult to really excel at anything if you don't pick and choose, but doing so is just too difficult - you're passionate about so many things, you can't possibly sacrifice a dozen things in favour of any one of them.

Unfortunately, with the new commission, it feels like your job is doing the choosing for you. You've only got a certain amount of productive time each day to do things, and making all these glass panels, even if you're not a major part of the project, has been a very time-consuming process.

You had heard about the upcoming witch hunt in the city and how it was going to be horrible, but honestly, you just couldn't bring yourself to care. You're an upstanding citizen, and you do well - not lynching material at all, and if it isn't someone you know, why should you care about them?

Though you will testify if need be, your main concern is whether you'll be able to deliver the windows in time; anything else, even events of a political or social nature, even travesties, are secondary and can be resolved after your work is done.

*    *    *    *    *

You are a Villager.

Wincon:  Eliminate all Witches, Witch-aligned entities, magical entities and killers present from the game.

Spoiler: Urist A (click to show/hide)

You are the Witch Crone.

As the Crone, you are the oldest of the three. The title is often given to witches nearing death; as such, you are intimately familiar with it.

Having to watch people pass on - and sometimes linger - is not altogether the most pleasant of tasks, but there are none more suitable than you. You, unlike others, know how to deal with them. You can guide them on, show them the path that they must take.

And as the leader of the local witches' coven, primarily due to age and wisdom, you carry both the greatest burden of responsibility and command the greatest amount of respect. It is your duty as a good coven matriarch to guide the witches on with their obligation to keep the balance between the physical and spiritual world.

Your coven, however, is a rather more special case. Your maiden was recruited from the Elves - which is traditionally a cruel, cannibalistic and generally unsympathetic race, but this girl had shown promise early on with her magic and unusual empathy. Along with it was a certain amount of teenage rebelliousness - not so good for the Elves, but something that could be exploited. You had a feeling that she was going to be central to something significant later on, and so you recruited her into your ranks.

As it turned out, it did - a few months ago, you had visions of an impending disturbance in the Way of Things, and of many deaths to come. As you had very little information to go on, you thought little of it then - but now, things seemed indicative of a power shift in Fairyland. Elven Hunts, where massive numbers of Elves would appear at a time to savage human population hubs, consuming and assimilating people as the go, became all the more frequent. People wouldn't be able to afford more attacks before progress becomes stunted and industry stagnates - and visiting villages and towns yourself, you had seen first-hand the effects. People were frightened and suffered greatly. Superstition was on the rise, and so was witch hunting. Not only that, but you felt something else present - a certain, rather more sinister presence.

So, when you heard news from the Maiden that the Elves were planning a massive Hunt in a major city for her coming-of-age ceremony, the situation had become too much to bear. You needed to take action.

Thus, you hatched a plan to sabotage the Hunt, to weaken them and to investigate the presence all in one fell swoop. As it happened, the strangeness had originated from the same city the Elves were staging their attack in - so, using the Maiden to work against the Elves from within (no coven, no matter how strong, would be able to stand a face-to-face fight against such a powerful adversary), you would sabotage their mission and be in an ideal position to further divine details about the phenomenon.

The Maiden left with the other Elves at sunset. You and the Mother would stay outside the city walls, borrowing the body of some sod within to work inside.

You took the body of Adrian Middleton, an as-of-yet obscure, but certainnly skilled silversmith. His house is partly a store, as seems to be rather common - the bottom floor, a dedicated storefront, has all kinds of silverware and silver items on display. The top consists only of a closet, study and bedroom, and is quite disorganised - drawing and blueprints for miscellaneous silver trinkets and machines are strewn about the study and bedroom. Though nobody is likely to persecute this person, you still have to be careful - if you die in this body, you yourself will die along with it; an unfortunate, but unavoidable consequence.

*    *    *    *    *

You are the Witch Crone.

Wincon: Eliminate all Villagers, killers and magical entities from the game.

(Power) (Magical) (Night) Subtle Poisons: Each Night, you may steal another player's vote. That player will be rendered Voteless the following Day, and you will gain two votes to make use of. To use your second vote, you must explicitly state "Second Vote: [Player]" or some variation thereof.

(Passive) (Night) Frailty: You have a small chance of dying spontaneously each Night phase.

(Passive) (Magical) (Night) At Death's Door: You will have a high chance of being notified of certain spiritual disturbances in your night flavour-text.

(Passive) (Magical) (Day) (Night) Witches' Coven: You may speak with your fellow Witches whenever you wish.

(Passive) (Magical) (Day) (Night) Affinity: You have a small chance of being notified of a magical presence or action.

[Darvi]

Also, dead people could send a message every night.

Usually though they stopped giving a shit after the first night after their deaths so that's why there were no messages any more eventually.

[NativeForeigner]

I was surprised by that too.

I was rather upset by that, haha.

Man, that was a close one.  Think saved our assess with that missed kill on Native.  Also, love the term "Batman Gambit".

That had me cackling like the witch I was.

All in all, a good game. Sadly, the only major part I was able to play was reviving McArathos and not dying. My internet dying on me for a week didn't exactly help with that.

[Toaster]

Was it that I was here looking for witches?  That's what I guessed.

[Darvi]

Was it that I was here looking for witches?  That's what I guessed.

Nope.

[Toaster]

Hmm..  I'll check them again.


Did the Bellsounder have to ring them in a star pattern?  Like...

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[Darvi]

Nope. Whenever they ringed a bell, the two opposite bells would also be affected i.e. turning off the northern bell on N0 would turn on both southern bells.

That being said, Vector screwed up because they could've easily been all activated by N1.

[Toaster]

Ah.  It was also kind of obvious it was Vector because they stopped changing when she went up for replacement, but that was beside the point.

It would have changed a random person to SK?

[Darvi]

Yep. An sk with two kill- and two inspect-immunities.

Also Vec had a one-shot chance of 60% not to get lynched.

Oh, and those immunities would be shared amongst the two. So investigating the demon once and Vec twice would've yielded a one-inspect result on Vec.