I trust Arden about as far as I can throw him.
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I trust Arden about as far as I can throw him.
Indeed, I have walked these lands for many a year and have heard many a tale and seen many an unexplained sight. Nay, this be not one of those, however. I think we all know that Merlin is behind this treachery. But like the rest of you, what I know of this apparition is hearsay and legend and nothing more. I cannot be of assistance in locating this fiend any more than any of you all.
*looks at Murska*
You, sir, seem to have garnered much attention already this day. I've not noticed any untoward behavior as yet. Mayhap you could enlighten us as to why this might be?
What now? You talk of Merlin as if he were real? You say you believe in Wizards? tretchary? Wolves? Witches and blue ghosts? tosh I say! Now how are we really going to sort this mess out?
(day one random) :smallbiggrin:
Aye, indeed I don't doubt the existence of Merlin, though I don't share most beliefs that he is a wizard. I expect he's merely a talented trickster and charlatan. Once we find him, we can work out the puzzles of his so called wizardry.
"Indeed. The only thing I could think of, is that they remember my prowess in past campaigns. I have already bested these so-called 'Arthurians' once. But the ones pointing at me don't seem to be those who would have been there. So, Kroy, who has told you of their bitter defeat while convincing you to work for them?
Trixie for hax in the last game.
I think I'll do a retalliation point at Aemoh
Point at Zombieninja
Deathslayer7 is just the sort of title which might be assumed by one of these egotistical Arthurian charlatans.
A man stepped out of the crowd, wearing green and brown clothing, light and rugged. when he moved, you could hear the chain mail he wore underneath, and the arrows he had in his quiver would rattle around. a simple, yet elegant horn adorned his side. His steps were like the rattle old dried leaves. a bow made of fine, black wood sat atop his shoulder, and a dagger with a hilt of gold sat by his boot.
When he spoke, his sound was as clear and humble as a stream in the forest: "I am Sir Bisrot of the Forest. it appears that we have fallen to a trap... now, my good men, we must fight for our lives... if we must choose, then let us take out the Crown of Thorns.
OOc: day one random
Zombieninja random. Which may or may not just be reverse alphabetical order.
The fox sniffed the bag. Poking it open, he discovered a large hunk of chicken, which he proceeded to eat. He felt something on the back of his neck, and looked up. A little girl was stroking him, and he wagged his tail in delight, closing his eyes.
Thufir for the randominity!
Zombieninja because I don't want to choose between a lynch of a new player and Murska.
"Tell me, Sir Fin, do you doubt that Arthur is the rightful High King of Britian? Answer me truthfully!"
((OOC point at zombieninja for bandwagoney goodness and no other reason))
What do we do in the case of a tie?
Murska was just first day lynched in WW: Classic. Honor demands I must save him.
Crown of Thorns hasn't died recently in anything that I know of.
Day 1 Ends
This narration is dedicated to all Day One lynches, their victims, and the logic used to justify their lynch.
ATTORNEY GENERAL'S WARNING: THE FOLLOWING NARRATION CONTAINS LINKS TO TVTROPES. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
“Stop hiding, you pansies! Come out and taste cold steel!”
“It’s super effective! Charmander faints! Murska levels up! Murska is evolving! Press ‘A’ to let Murska evolve!”
“A wizard did it! A wizard did it! THE END IS NIGH! REPENT YE SINNERS, REPENT!”
“Hereee foxy foxy foxy foxy!”
“Shuttup and concentrate! We need to lynch someone!” Sir Zeb, Lord of Trollbridge speaks up, cutting through the hubbub of chattering nobles.
“Why?”
“Because, Lords and Ladies, consider Chewbacca. Chewbacca is a Wookie from the planet Kashyyk. But Chewbacca lives on the planet Endor. Now think about it: that does not make sense!”
“But more importantly, you have to ask yourselves: What does this have to do with this case? Nothing. Lords and Ladies, it has nothing to do with my argument! It does not make sense! Look at me. I'm a knight living in the British Dark Ages, and I'm talkin' about Chewbacca! Does that make sense? Ladies and gentlemen, I am not making any sense! None of this makes sense! And so you have to remember one important thing: NOT LYNCHING SOMEONE MEANS THE TERRORISTS WIN. DO YOU WANT THE TERRORISTS TO WIN?”
“NO!” The nobles chorus as one, immediately putting their considerable brainpower to deciding who to lynch.
“I have a cunning plan!” Sir Reinholdt announces, causing his audience to break out into spontaneous applause.
“Now, Lords and Ladies, the Art of War tells us that we must do what our opponents least expect! Which is why we must do what they expect the least – lynch people in alphabetical order!”
“Wait, hang on – didn’t we do that the last time we played this game?” Sir Aemoh asks. The world shudders slightly as a crack appears in the fourth wall.
“PRECISELY!” answers Reinholdt excitedly. “Which is why they will never expect us to do it AGAIN!”
A gasp runs through the nobles as the argument hits home. A few more delicate ladies fall in a swoon to the floor, overcome by the sheer ingenuity of Reinholdt’s argument. Cheering, the rest run towards Reinholdt and mob him, making baaing noises curiously reminiscent of a flock of sheep.
Sir Zombieninja sighs, pressing his palm to his forehand.
“C’mon guys, you had your fun last game – you can’t lynch me on Day One again! Please, pretty please, let me live? I even asked in the recruitment threa-”
Unfortunately for Sir Zombieninja, the full effects of his appeal to pity will never be known, for his last statement blows the fourth wall into oblivion. A pure stream of plot bursts forth from the ruined wall, and covers London in a blinding display of Author Fiat.
When the plot clears, all that is left of the unfortunate Sir Zombieninja are a pair of smoking greaves.
Zombieninja was vaporized by the powers of plot. He was a Dissenting Noble.
Night One Starts
(DISCLAIMER: THE NARRATION ABOVE WAS WRITTEN WHILE IN A STATE OF POST-PARTY EUPHORIA. APOLOGIES FOR THE TOTAL RANDOMNESS.)
(DISCLAIMER 2: Since it's my birthday today won't count for autolynches, yay!)
(DISCLAIMER 3: Please send night actions to both narrators.)
(DISCLAIMER 4: Kudos to those who can point out the show I made Reinholdt reference.)
(DISCLAIMER 5: I need to stop writing disclaimers.)
....Well, that sucks.
We lost a villager. On. Day. One.
Couldn't it have been a wolf?
Well, you're a wolf right?
I'm in no condition to write the night narration right now, so I'll be extending the night by 24 hours.
Also, certain powerroles need to send me their night actions!
-glares-
Wolves, keep in mind you need to send in a kill vote along with your target for your night action, or you automatically keep it suppressed it.
I apologize for the delay - I promise there will be no more of these. Lex, if you've got time to fill in a night narration feel free by all means, sorry about not informing you earlier.
-crashes and goes to sleep-
Night 1 Ends
For the nobles, the first night they spend in London is long and terrifying. The previous day's explosion of author fiat has left plot holes strewn through the ancient city, and many a noble find their surroundings transformed when they wake up the next morning.
Carefully picking their way through the streets, the nobles make their way into the main square without incident. (Discounting that one unfortunate time Sir DemonicAngel's bow turned into a flock of pink flamingoes after a short brush with a dose of Meme-ism, or a short delay suffered by Sir Coward after a wrong turn resulted in a bout of rick-rolling, or Sir Fin's brush with.... well, you get the drift - no incidents that affected important people like the narrators.)
Huddling in a confused mass, the nobles watch the remnants of plot around them slowly dissipate. It is only then that they think to do a headcount.
Amazingly, all nobles are present, sans the unfortunate Sir Zombieninja. Time to get lynching again!
No one died last night.
Day 2 Starts
Yesss :D
This is good. This is very good. One lynch and no deaths. Pretty good.
The fox glanced nervously at a hole in the plot. The wall around it had warped and turned purple, so the plothole seemed to be contained in a giant purple flower.
The giant flower extended a tendril as the plothole flared. It whacked the fox on the nose. He yelped and ran off like aFleeing Coward.
Zeb the Troll.
"Hmm, I suspect this 'Bushranger' character. No self-respecting noble would go ranging around in bushes, so I am forced to conclude that he is, in fact, a damned Arthurian!"
Mmm, a fox could make some tasty game. It could also be an Arthurian in disguise.
Cyberwolf.