Wyrmhero

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2,461 Steel Inquisitor

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About Wyrmhero

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    Purveyor of Fine Sanderson Elimination Rules and King of Trolls
  • Birthday 01/25/1993

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    Male
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    Near London, UK
  • Interests
    Magic: The Gathering, Roleplaying, Board Games, Card Games, Computer Games, Physics, Progamming, Reading, creating far more Sanderson Elimination variants than could ever be played...

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  1. Night 3: Antipathy Khas whistled. "I'd hate to be that Harvey guy. If I didn't know better, I'd have to assume that everyone was just waiting for the change to get him offed." "I would have hoped that our people would have enough professionalism not to endanger our mission like that," Wurum shrugged. "But ultimately, it doesn't matter. As before, I did what was necessary. At the very least, it was a relatively painless death. He went to sleep and simply... never wake up. Compared to how most people in this business end up, it's a relatively kind death. More than they could have expected." "Heh. So you expecting that sort of courtesy when your time comes?" Khas asked. "You're assuming that I will be killed?" Wurum raised an eyebrow. "Have you no faith?" "In you surviving? Damnation, I don't even expect myself to survive in this line of work. Why do you think I have such an irreverent view on life? I'm sure someone will kill me some day." He pushed his glass forward. "Is there any more of that wine?" "I suppose so," Wurum sighed as he got up and took another bottle out of the wine rack. "I'm glad it's not my wine you're guzzling down like water." "It's not?" Khas asked. "damnation, then why am I even bothering?" He chuckled. "Is the only reason you're here to try and drink as much alcohol as possible?" "No, no. Remember, I want to hear your story," Khas pointed out as he poured himself another glass. "So why not continue?" "Well, before I do... There is one thing you could at least tell me. Why have you appeared here? This story isn't that important to you, is it?" "No, but I have my reasons," Khas shrugged. "And you're not going to tell me what those reasons are?" Wurum asked. "I was bored," Khas said. At Wurum's disbelieving gaze, he threw his hands up in the air in defeat. "Okay, fine. I was concerned." "Concerned? You?" "Yeah. Without me, you've got no-one to keep you sane. Damnation, I know I'd go mad if I only had a few spren for company. So, decided to keep you company for a bit." "I suppose the thought is appreciated," Wurum nodded. "And I also thought I was drinking out your wine," Khas said. "Let's not forget that." "Fine. I won't, I promise you. So, do you even want to hear the rest of the story?" "Of course," Khas smiled as he raised his glass in a half-toast. "Can't just leave the story there, can we? I want to hear the rest of it." "Very well... Then let's move on to the following night..." Harvey (Hemalurgic Headshot) was a Ghostblood! Harvey/Hemalurgic Headshot (6): Arvian/Arinian, Groot/Droughtbringer, Thorot/Jondesu, Brandir Sebarial/Elenion, Stick, Revali/TheMightyLopen Elenion/Brandir Sebarial (1): Harvey/Hemalurgic Headshot Night 3 has begun! It will end at 9 PM on Thursday, GMT. Day players may not post in the thread. Night players may now PM each other and post in the thread.. Notemos Town Hall Clock Player List
  2. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    Day 3: History "You know, for someone who claims to hate blood and violence, you had no problems telling me just how gruesome that death was." "It's been a while since I saw it," Wurum said. "The image is etched on my brain like it's been carved on stone. And yet, at the same time, there is a certain detachment to it. It's both a sharp and well-defined picture within my head, and yet at the same time, it's fuzzy and distant. I suppose the important thing is that while I discovered his body, I did not see the act take place. I didn't wield the knife myself. I'm not sure. Perhaps it's just that I don't mind because I'm telling you about it? I don't claim to know myself well enough to be able to tell you." Khas chuckled. "I suppose none of us do, really. So, what happened the next day then? Surely one of those so-called 'Honour' guys bit it?" "I would like a break, for now." Wurum stood up from the table. "I am getting hungry, and could do with some food to go with the wine." "Blech," Khas made a face. "Count me out. I'd rather starve than have Soulcast stuff." "There's not just Soulcast food here," Wurum admitted. "I may have lied to get you to leave earlier." "You say the sweetest things. So what fare do you have to offer?" "Not much better, to be honest. Dried meats, some cheese... Salted food. Things that last. It's not as bad as Soulcast food, but only just." "It will have to do," Khas sighed. "As long as you don't use it as another method of poisoning me." "Honestly, you shouldn't worry so much, Khas. You're irritating at times, but I do consider you my friend. And neither of those are worthy of death, no matter how it may feel sometimes. And I certainly have no orders to kill you. You came here of your own volition, I assume, so it's not as though my being here with you is some grand orchestration to take you out." "Oh." Khas smiled. "That's a good point, I hadn't thought of it like that. Then yes, I will eat with you, thank you. But nothing fake, just the real stuff. Even if it's not the highest quality cuisine, I'll take that over magic food any day." "Good. Soulcast food is an annoyingly large drain on the gemstones anyway. There's a contraption on the roof we use to restore the gems in a Highstorm. Unfortunately, I have to remain up all through them so I can pull them back in immediately after it's over. We don't want someone to see a large bright light and become curious, after all." "My sympathies. It's a rough life, being anathema to the world." "And wouldn't you know it," Wurum muttered as he disappeared into a small adjoining room and returned with a small platter of food. He raised an eyebrow as he watched Khas get up and rifle through the knickknacks on the shelf again. "Are you looking for something?" "Well, not particularly. Just wanted to stretch my legs, we'd been sitting for a while." He took a mask off the shelf and placed it before him in front of the mirror. "Where's this from? It's very colourful, so I would guess Nalthis?" "You'd guess right," Wurum nodded as he set the table for them both. "A Returned had a jester in his court - Similar to the King's Wit here, but more foolish. The man dressed up in, honestly rather garish, bright clothes and danced around, played instruments, made jokes... I found it interesting that the Returned had actually started selling replicas of the mask." "Huh, so rather than because you liked the jester, it's just because it piqued your interest that a God had turned it into a business venture? That's so like you." "What do you mean?" "Well, take this," Khas said, picking up a think black box with gold lettering in the metallic artifact written across the top. He opened the lid. "Is this a dagger I see before me?" He reached in to take it out of the velvet-lined box, but yelped as suddenly Wurum slapped his hand away. "Don't touch that," Wurum said, lifting the box out of his hands and putting it back. "That is one of the obsidian daggers that the first and only Mistborn of the third age of Scadrial used. It's incredibly valuable and I don't want even your fingerprints on it, to say nothing of the fact that you might drop and break it." "Right, right," Khas muttered, rubbing his wrist. "But that's my point. What does it mean?" "I'm sorry?" Wurum asked, a bit thrown by the question. "I don't understand. It's a dagger. Why does it mean anything?" "Well, can you name any famous battles it's been in? Was he buried with it because it was his favourite? Was it a gift he received and cherished from one of his many children?" "I... I don't know? What are you getting at?" "What I mean by this questioning," Khas said, "is that you are the worst historian ever. You're barely even a collector. This could be an integral part of Scadrialan history, and it's just a bloody curiosity to you. You don't understand it's history or what it is, what it's done. It's just got a fancy label to you. You see the trees, but not the forest. Damnation, I don't know whether watching you try and Forge would be laughable or just annoying." "Shut up and eat," Wurum muttered, dragging Khas away and forcing him back down into his chair. "And if you've not had your fill of death yet either, I'll continue with this bit of history..." Bart (Bartimaeus)/The Soulcaster (Amanuensis) was a Ghostblood! Day 3 has begun! It will end at 9 PM on Wednesday GMT. Night players may not send PMs to anyone other than their partners. Night players cannot post in the thread. Day players can now post in the thread again. Notemos Town Hall Clock Player List
  3. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    The turn is over! Night players, please stop your PMs.
  4. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    Night 2: The Wine in Front of Me "So... Sart and-or Elbereth died then," Khas said, when there was a lull. "Killed by a democratic vote. Well, I'm glad it was a bit less dull this time." Given up on making the distinction between them? Or trying to?" Wurum asked with a chuckle. "Yeah, I don't see the point of wondering about it anymore," Khas shrugged. "I thought you were a philosopher? Someone who liked to argue?" "I mean, yes, but... I didn't get that degree to argue with people, but to discuss. I recall what they said to me when I got my degree in Silverlight-" "Yes, I remember as well," Wurum said dryly, interrupting him. "Something along the lines of 'Who in Damnation are you? Someone call for security,' I believe?" "Bah, this anecdote is wasted on you," Khas waved his hand, gritting his teeth a little as he let it slide. "Whatever. So how did this person die?" "How else? I had to kill them." "You? So they just gave you a name they all came up with, and you..." Khas drew his thumb across his neck and made a sound. "Well, I was the one in charge of the group," Wurum pointed out. "So it's my responsibility to correct mistakes such as this. For that matter, you hardly want to give the rank and file to go-ahead to take each other out, do you? What if they get it in their heads that dead man's boots is the way to advance?" "I suppose so," Khas sighed. "So how'd you do it?" he asked, pulling is wine bottle forward and pouring another glass. "Knife in the back? Or across the throat? Paid a couple of thugs to pound the life out of them?" There was a certain bloodthirstiness in his eyes, a small need to know the full details of what had transpired. The Thrill, called on by proxy by the tale of death and violence, was calling him and clouding his mind. He lifted his glass, waiting in anticipation. "Poison," Wurum said. Khas' wine glass froze on its way to his lips. Wurum chuckled. "It's what I'm known for, after all. Well, in certain circles." Khas felt his face going white. He suddenly felt quite cold. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the bottle Wurum was drinking from. He'd given them both their own personal one, complaining that he would have to get up twice as much if they drank from one bottle between them. Was that a ploy to take him out? "You know, I originally trained to be a surgeon?" Wurum asked, taking a careless sip from his own glass. "But, there was a massive problem with that. No stomach for violence. I see one drop of blood, and that's it. Ripping someone open like that? Even if it is ultimately for their benefit... Organs too, for that matter. Disgusting things, better off hidden away. But in any case, I trained a healer for some time. And of course, knowing how to heal, it only follows that I know how to hurt. And most herbs and medicines are quite dangerous in large doses." ""You don't say," Khas said, tapping the side of his glass, his face expressionless and glazed over as he tried to analyse every single odd feeling he had at this time, wondering if they were signs of something greater. "So, I simply poisoned him. It looked suspicious, of course, but less so than an actual violent murder. And most Darkeyes wouldn't know the difference between an attempted poisoning and illness or alcohol poisoning." He looked up, and finally noticed Khas' face. He smiled and chuckled again. "Don't worry." He took Khas' glass and poured a measure into his own glass, knocking it back. "See?" "...The thought occurs," Khas said, fingers tapping restlessly on the table. "That if you have studied such things, then you know how much of a dosage is needed to kill someone. Therefore, you could drink this perfectly happily, safe in the knowledge that you are not ingesting a lethal dose." "Fine then," Wurum shrugged and swapped the bottles around. "Does this satisfy you? Your wine bottle contains more than half of its liquid still. Therefore, if there is a lethal dosage within there, either we shall both die, or I shall die. Happy?" "Yes," Khas said slowly, "unless you knew I was going to say that, and your bottle contains the poison, and now the poisoned bottle of wine is before me." "But what if I hadn't asked?" Wurum said. "Well, then the one I had was poisoned, which you now have, and mine is now safe. But if you knew I knew that..." "I feel you are getting tapped within your own reasoning." "True!" Khas said with a sigh, flopping back against the back of his chair. "It's that old thing you keep saying, isn't it?" "Never fight a land war on the Shattered Plains?" "The other thing." "Do not act incautiously when confronting little bald, wrinkly, smiling men?" "The third thing then." "Oh. Never go against a Heron when death is on the line," Wurum smiled. "Yes. I'm flattered by the amount you're tying your brain in knots here. In any case, we can solve this then." He got up and took down a water jug, which was empty of its contents, and poured both wine bottles into the jug. Then, he poured a glass for them each. "There. Either we both die, or neither of us do. Satisfied?" "...I suppose that half the amount in the bottle, plus what I have already drunk could be lethal... Or that you could have taken dosages of it in the past, in order to build up an immunity, like that mad old king..." "You're finding problems now for the sake of it. Clearly you're bored. Shall I tell you about the next night then?" Khas sighed once more and took the glass in his hand. "Tell away. If I'm going to die, I would rather have a good story to listen to while I expire." "Very well then..." Night 2 has begun! PMs are open! Night players may now post in the thread. The Night will end at 10 PM GMT on Monday. Sart/Senja (Elbereth) was a Ghostblood! Sart (4) - Harvey/Hemalurgic_Headshot, Thorot/Jondesu,Brandir Sebarial/Elenion, Revali/TheMightyLopen Enoemos/Magestar (2) - Sart, Stick Bart/Bartimaeus (1) - Arvian/Arinian Notemos Town Hall Clock Player List
  5. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    Sorry guys, didn't post that the turn was meant to be over 40 minutes ago. There have been no votes since then, and the turn was only 47 hours not 48 (which I understand may have confused some people), so I feel that's not too bad. Please do not post any more in this thread, however.
  6. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    Please, Night players, re-read the rules as to when you can PM other Night players. I have had to warn two people now for sending messages out of turn.
  7. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    Day 2: The True Self “So...” Khas said, after a short pause. “Mestow died then.” “Strictly speaking, it was 'Neiha' who died,” Wurum pointed out. “But they're the same person,” Khas said. “And Mestow was the original identity. So Mestow died.” “Ah, but if they're the same, why are you making the distinction that Mestow died? Surely it doesn't matter which of them died if they're the same person.” “But you're the one who first made that distinction,” Khas replied, frowning a tad. “So if you said that, then why bother differentiating and correcting me? Either you believe that one of them is the true self, the real identity of Mestow-slash-Neiha, or you don't. You can't believe both simultaneously.” “Maybe I just like correcting you,” Wurum shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Or maybe I truly do feel like the two personalities are both the same and separate. I don't know, you're the philosopher, not me.” “Philosophy and psychology are two different things, as I'm sure you're well aware.” “Then I can't answer you,” Wurum spread his arms out in a shrug. “Regardless of how you look at it, there was a death. Are you satisfied now that someone has died? Is your bloodlust saited?” “Well... When you put it like that...” “Yes,” Wurum nodded. “You would do well to remember that I am telling you events as they happened. This story contains real people and real events. Mestow, or Neiha if you prefer, died for your entertainment. Perhaps a little more respect is due, no?” Khas sighed. “Fine, you've made your point. I was overly callous and disappointed, and will not complain again.” “Good,” Wurum said. “As long as you promise the next day is more interesting,” Khas added. “Well, you'll have to just wait and see, won't you?” Wurum asked. “In the meantime, I will continue the story as I will tell it...” Day 2 has begun! It will end on Sunday at 9PM GMT. Day players may now post in the thread again. Night players must stop posting and sending PMs to other Night players. Mestow/Neiha Solam (Drake Marshall/Arraenae) was a Loyal Ghostblood! Notemos Town Hall Clock Player List
  8. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    The Night is over! Night players should cease PMs at the moment.
  9. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    GM Request - It is very hard to spot actions being sent in when there is back and forth between the day and night players. Can I ask that people bold their actions or in some way make them noticeable to make it easier for me? I'm not saying that I will not accept non-bolded actions, mind, just asking that people bold them for clarity's sake.
  10. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    Night 1: The Nature of Reality "That's it?" Wurum shrugged at him. "What more do you want?" "Well," Khas said, sighing theatrically, "You started with this tale of mob justice or whatever, and then... Where was the payoff?" he asked, pouring himself a little more of the wine. "It was the dullest start to a story I've ever heard." "Be that as it may," Wurum replied narrowly, "that is what happened. I can't tell you why the events unfolded as they did. Some might consider it a good thing that they didn't immediately go around slaughtering each other. But remember, this was only the start of things. You asked what happened, and I am telling you." "Yes, but you could have spiced it up a little, rather than making it as bland as soulcast stuff," Khas insisted. "At least that way your audience wouldn't be in danger of falling asleep where they sit." "I can tell you an exciting, fake story or I can tell you a duller, real story," Wurum said. "Which would you rather?" "What sort of choice is that?" Khas shook his head. "Why does reality have to be boring? I reject any sort of notion of a world like that." "Fine. I can tell you that Revali was run out of town on the back of a horse he stole. Or that Brandir Sebarial escaped execution by the skin of his teeth due to his connections to the Alethi nobility. Or perhaps that Bart got involved with a deadly duel on the rooftops with Harvey, only ending in a stalemate when they fell off the roof into the main street. Would this be more palatable?" "Well, it's a good start," Khas nodded. "Sorry, but I won't," Wurum cut his hopes off. "I am the storyteller, and therefore I get to choose how the story goes. I choose for it to be real and honest and factual. If you want some falsified tale, go and learn to read or find a woman to read fiction to you. Far as I'm concerned, the world is strange and dark enough these days without making it moreso." "Fine," Khas sighed. "Then you leave me no choice." He waved a hand at Wurum and then took a small sip of his wine. "Continue then, sir. Tell the story how it should be told." "Good." Wurum poured himself another glass. His hands were starting to shake just a little. "This part will probably interest you more - You see, while the day might have been fairly dull in your most esteemed opinion, that night was more interesting, for there was an attack..." No-one was lynched! TheMightyLopen/Revali (1): Drake Marshall/Mestow Elenion/Brandir Sebarial (1): Bartimaeus/Bart Bartimaeus/Bart (1): Elenion/Brandir Sebarial Hemalurgic_Headshot/Harvey (1): TheMightyLopen/Revali Night players may now post in this thread until the end of the Night Turn, which will be at 10PM GMT on Friday.. There is a Messenger alive; Night players may PM each other until the end of the Night Turn.. Notemos Town Hall Clock Player List
  11. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    Another minor clarification re: the lynch - It will follow LG rules rather than normal QF rules. Therefore there must be at least two votes on a player to be lynched, and they must have the most votes.
  12. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    So, some clarifications, some of which are prompted and some of which are not: The Sons of Honour are standard Eliminators. One group of two (as there are no single players on their own) can send in the order to make a kill each Night Turn, as normal. I will only accept the first order sent in this way, unless it is retracted later. If I have called you a Ghostblood or Son of Honour in your PM and not said that you are another Role, then you are Roleless. The Shadow will make scans come up as Ghostblood/Roleless/No partner when scanned by the three scanning Roles.
  13. Quick Fix Game 22: Ghosts in the Night

    Yes, you can always talk to your partner, regardless of whether it's Day or Night and whether PMs are closed or not.