Werewolf Classic XII

[Zar Peter]

I'm almost tempted to switch my vote to this Ztar Peer fellow.

Ooops. Sorry. But the h is'nt pronounced anyway, I believe

[Tasroth]

Griever today

[Ghanz Nmi]

That's a constant.

Grumble, grumble, semantics.

Ooops. Sorry. But the h is'nt pronounced anyway, I believe

Shush, it's significant to me! Don't listen to be bad man, little h, you're important!

[calar]

Yay for bandwagons with no logic! The British.

[TheBritish]

Yay for bandwagons with no logic! The British.

Boo for bandwagons with no logic :(

I have nobody to vote for, so I won't throw around a vote :).
(Also, unlike most other people who died, I have no pearls of wisdom to give you to help you out after my death. So... good luck! :))

[Lex-Kat]

We gonna ride the convoy bandwagon...

The British

Convoy's a different game. You may have to wait a while to play that one.

[TheBritish]

This might be a stupid question now the game's starting to get later on in... but are you still needing autolynch replacements? :)

[Kyrian]

TheBritish it is then!

[VA_beds]

baaaaaa baaaaaaaa
i also say the british

[Tydude]

I don't think I've voted yet so I'll vote TheBritish also. And, you do know there's a smiley face icon, right?

[Internet Flea]

There's actually a whole range of emotions over here.

[Griever]

Zar Peter, because I, for some reason, actually like TheBritish's smilies.

[madeyegeorge]

The British i guess. i dont really like voting without good reason...

[Alarra]

I'll be out of town with little (likely no) internet until Tuesday morning.

[Mtheminja]

Horoar, as I don't like the way he and TheBritish agreed on actions latter proven harmful to the town; possible switch to TheBritish if another bandwagon pops up.

Edit: This just looked pretty bad with hindsight, given we had no network direction.

[TheBritish]

Horoar, as I don't like the way he and TheBritish agreed on actions latter proven harmful to the town; possible switch to TheBritish if another bandwagon pops up.

I'm already dead, but for the sake of the town later (post-my-mortem), what actions did we agree on that harmed the town? :)

[Thufir]

We’re turned somewhat to disarray at this point, sir. For the past two days, we’ve... well, we’ve had purpose. Now we’re back to randomly throwing around accusations just as we were when this horror-show first began.
No pressure or anything, sir, but I feel at a time like this the whole place would benefit hugely from a bit of clear, authoritative, leadership.

Where, dear friends, is your leader? Dare he not show his face among you?

I record the sequence of events of the past few hours in full detail, to ensure that there is no doubt about what has happened.
On discovery of the attached note, it occurred to us that not only had we not seen Captain Sanderson for several days, we had heard nothing from him. No orders, no responses to my reports at all. Being understandably concerned, we immediately went to headquarters to check on him.
On entering, we found him sitting rigidly at his desk, staring fixedly at his papers. As we approached, he seemed to reach some resolution, and suddenly looked up, as though he had only just noticed our arrival. His face looked rather pale and wan, but his eyes blazed with an energy which could be seen as slightly worrying.
“Ah, men.” Said he, “As you can see, I have, after much deliberation, reached the logical conclusion as to who our resident wolves must be. As with all such things, it is perfectly obvious once you have seen the train of logic through to the answer.”
“Well, that’s wonderful sir... er, we merely came here to check on you, having had no word from you on anything for the past few days.”
“Ah yes, apologies about that. No time, no time, you understand. This problem has engaged me so completely I have had no energy or attention to devote to anything else – orders, administration, sleep, all had to fall by the wayside I’m afraid.”
“Wait – sir, you haven’t slept?”
“For the past 5 days I believe. Been too busy considering this problem. I must thank you for your care and diligence in providing me with suitable data to analyse. Following the demise of Sergeant Annon, of course, I had to carefully consider the possibility of reporter’s bias in everything he told me since the beginning of this disaster. Equally, however, by considering the bias which would be logical I was able to more easily calculate the probabilities related to the possible werewolves. In the end, the guilt of the British was so statistically significant as to be impossible to ignore. You may consult my notes if you require any further convincing, I must go and attend to my results.”
At that, he handed me a sheaf of papers covered in convoluted theories and what appeared to me to be arcane symbols, and he rushed out at great speed, leaving us simply looking at each other in confusion for a few moments, before following after him, in mild panic. But to our astonishment, we could not see him. He had vanished quite completely, moving at a rate which frankly strains credulity. A search was immediately mounted. I myself found him fairly quickly, with the dead body of a hanged man.
Said he, “There, you see. Now that the British are gone, we are all safe!”
Said I, “But captain, sir, this one man is not the British.”
“But-”
“He is British, it is true, but he is not the British. We are all British. Were we to adopt your belief, we would have to kill every one of us. We would be safe, I suppose, but it would be but the safety of the grave.”
“But I- but sergeant- he-I-I was betrayed, I- there is no- I am al-a a...”
Whereupon his attention appeared to drift off to something I could not see, and in but a couple more moments, he had collapsed on the ground, unconscious.
He was quickly put to bed, and a doctor brought in to examine him. Other than the effects of sleep deprivation, he was discovered to be physically in perfect condition. The possible mental issues he may be facing, however, are more nebulous and difficult to determine.

Summary: TheBritish was lynched. He was a Villager.
Night 8 begins now and ends in approximately 24 hours.

[Thufir]

This might be a stupid question now the game's starting to get later on in... but are you still needing autolynch replacements? :)

I'll take that as an offer.

lostlittlebear, Robz_defheadz and Valaqil were autolynched.
They will be replaced by bruntonspall, Wheat and TheBritish, respectively.

Could still use another AL-replacement, since Castaras has announced she's taking a break from the Playground.

[Julian84]

Well that was anticlimactic.

Well, TheBritish, how was your brief taste of the afterlife?

[TheBritish]

A note found in TheBritish's tent:

If you're reading this note, I'm dead. Either I've fallen victim to the wolves, or the wild accusations which are thrown away anytime the wolves take a victim. If the wolves took my life, clearly I was an awesome detective whom they were right to fear! If the villagers took my life... You... You <explicit> fellows! :(

Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that my death serves little purpose as I know no better than any of you whom is a wolf and who is a true person. Sorry...

TheBritish.


Valaqil:
Another villager gone? D: And we have so little information :( I can only hope the seer randomly spots someone soon :( At least we got rid of an -annoying- villager, so totally not a loss! :)

And I have no idea what you're talking about Julian! TheBritish is dead and shall never come back! That would be a wolfy thing to do! :)

[bruntonspall]

Awesome I'm back!

Now to look ove about 2 weeks worth of posts to see if there's anything I missed while being dead

[Imperial Psycho]

[in the afterlife]
*pop*
O hai TheBritish!
*pop*
Bye TheBritish!
[/in the afterlife]

[GrlumpTheElder]

Could still use another AL-replacement, since Castaras has announced she's taking a break from the Playground.

I'd be happy to take the place if it's availible, have kept an eye on this since dying on the first night

[Thufir]

Apologies for lateness of narration... I am experiencing technical difficulties.

[Horoar]

Apologies for lateness of narration... I am experiencing technical difficulties.

Technical difficulties are never fun.

[Annon]

*watches as TheBritish spends nary more than five minutes dead*

"huh....there's a revolving-door death for you...."

Co-narrator offer still stands if you want a hand, Thufir.

[TheBritish]

*watches as TheBritish spends nary more than five minutes dead*

"huh....there's a revolving-door death for you...."

Co-narrator offer still stands if you want a hand, Thufir.

I'll tell you a secret... I didn't really go through the door :) I just closed it when nobody was looking and put on a false moustache. I recommend it, but... maybe less itchy facial hair :(

[Orangeban]

Well I go on holiday and come back to find that The British did/n't die? Unless he's a zombie! Or perhaps a skeleton, ghost, ghast, vampire, mummy or a .... urmm..... urr... time to crack out the old monster manual I think.

[Rogue Nine]

He's a Wight.

[Thufir]

A guard detail must be assigned to all those who have been exposed as working with our beneficent seer. In particular a full squad are assigned to protect Mr. Ifto Matthews, who has been primary spokesperson for the same.
Our mystically designated protector may be dead, but we will show these lycanthropic blackguards the true strength of the common soldiery!

I’ve done all I can. Each group has been made large enough that I think even if there are still some werewolves hidden among the men, we need not worry too much about treachery.
I’ve been examining these ‘Lycanthrope-Trickster papers’, as our poor Captain Sanderson referred to them. They portray a strange, and rather grim view of the current events. They appear to shed some light on certain of the occurrences which in and of themselves, make less sense, however I can see little profit in detailed examination of them, since they tell us nothing of how to escape our situation, merely the details of it, with which we are already sufficiently familiar. Although, at least we may be reassured that we shall not have an increase in the number of nightly deaths.

Nightly they come, and naught shall halt them, save one. No matter the vigilance, no matter the guard, no matter all, they will come, and they will kill. One lynch each day, one murder each night, until none remain.

Our precautions were all in vain, ‘twould seem. The guards on duty did not sleep, did not cease in their watch, and yet their charge lies dead within. Through some mysterious means the lycanthropic menace may defy the protection of any but he who is dead. We were left with the corpse two messages:

DARE NOT THINK WE SHALL BE STAYED BY MERE HUMAN GUARDSMEN. FOOLS ARE YE ALL, AND THIS DEAD MAN THE GREATEST FOOL OF ALL. MAKE NO MISTAKE, WE SHALL ENTER ANY BUILDING, ANY ROOM, PASS ANY LOCK, OR BOLT, OR BAR, TAKE ANY LIFE WE CHOOSE…

My friends, my words are inadequate to express my sorrow. The only small consolation may be that it was not that most valuable of your remaining lives here. But that, I am sure, is little comfort.
I am so sorry.

Summary: Ramsus was killed. He was the Fool.
Day 9 begins now and ends in approximately 60 hours.