Metacognition

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About Metacognition

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    Holder of the Death Note Shard
  • Birthday 07/12/1981

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  1. AG3: Aftermath- When Hope Dies

    Cats were definitely harmed during the razing of Tyrian Falls. We just put that in at the end so we don't get sued. ...And people were harmed. And puppies. And poor defenseless buildings. And won't someone think of the poor Koloss that got blisters or stubbed their toes getting there? Point is, there was a lot of harming going around. If no one else wants to add their votes or anything, the rest of the Mods and I will discuss and we'll announce the winners of the CR challenge soon!
  2. AG3: Aftermath- When Hope Dies

    I mentioned something about that early on, before the game even began. It's written as every post (and those that did work it into every post definitely deserve more credit), but there was some leeway there as well because I didn't want it to be so restrictive that people didn't post because they couldn't write anything connected to their CR every time. The problem is that, if we take away such a parameter, then there were just so many great characters that people were doing a great job at bringing to life! I don't necessarily want to count those people out though either. Actually, you were their final kill. So you didn't technically survive. I just didn't make it a highlight of the write up because, well, everyone was basically dying. Your death technically won them the game. That's got to count for something though, right?
  3. AG3: Aftermath- When Hope Dies

    And I'd say that it's all a matter of getting used to it and figuring out how to do it. 'Scar managed to do the same and didn't seem to have nearly the difficulties you had. Granted, she didn't have the complication of also being Spiked, but I've seen her do that before too. Sure! I initially wanted to give the Spiked team a Coinshot. But that presented a lot of problems because, as I've said before, if you are reliant on certain roles to absolutely be in the game, then you've already broken your game a bit, IMO. And that's what it would've required for that to work. If the Spiked Coinshot was killed early or went inactive, then the entire balance of the teams would've shifted and I could not seem to find a way to make it work where the Coinshot was not pivotal to the Spiked success. We've seen stuff like this happen before, like in LG22 when we killed the Forsaken on the very first lynch and it made it so I just couldn't be killed the entire game. So I started looking at the Mistborn and they were perfect. They were less destructive than the Coinshot, but also gave the Spiked more versatility. They were also less predictable for the Spiked to be able to plan around, which made their job harder. This balanced nicely with the fact that they allowed for some explosive turns. And by giving the Spiked multiple Mistborn, I assured that they would be capable of having those turns while not making the entire team reliant on any singular role. As we saw in this game, when 2 (TWO!) of the Mistborn died early, it wasn't as crippling as it would've been had they lost their one and only Coinshot. So how do you balance the villagers against something like that? I had already decided at that point that one of the twists in the game was going to be the lack of Tineyes. With three Mistborn in the game, I figured that tin would still come up often enough, but would steadily decrease in frequency as the Mistborn died; thus making it a double edged sword for the Villagers. I also didn't want to balance out the Villagers by just adding in more Mistborn onto their side. It felt like a cheap way to go about balancing things. All that left was to give the Villagers enough Mistings of different sorts to make up for it. - The Smokers were there to help counter the possible turns where the multiple Mistborn drew Emotional Allomancy. If all three of the Mistborn drew either Brass or Zinc together, they could effectively control the votes even in the early game. Plus, I still feel like people just don't give Smokers the credit they deserve. 90% of the time this game, the Village Smokers had their Copperclouds off on just the possibility of a chance that there was a Seeker in the game when they could've been using their power to help protect the Village. - The large number of Thugs and multiple Lurchers were to, of course, dampen the strength of when the Mistborn would draw Steel multiple turns. - I gave them a single Seeker because, while they had Lurchers and Thugs that could be semi-confirmed if attacked, I felt like the Villagers needed some extra power since I was taking away easy access to PMs. Plus, I'll admit, I really wanted to see how someone would handle being a Seeker without PMs. Did they wait and hold onto all their information, waiting for a time when PMs become open and risk all their scans being lost if they were attacked? Or did they reveal in thread and draw attention (and ultimately death) from the Spiked? - Add in a peppering of Rioters and Soothers so that the Village could control the vote if they needed/wanted to and a Coinshot for good measure and voila! A fairly balance team to go against the Spiked. The Villagers had a large number of Mistings to help them in cause. Now, as far as why the Spiked had a Thug, a Smoker, and a Lurcher as well as the Mistborn when there was only one Coinshot in the game? That was twofold. - One, it gave the Spiked a place to hide. The Villagers had a larger number of those roles in the game than any others. So if they went around systematically trying to kill anyone and everyone that claimed Smoker or the like (basically, trying to use the role distribution to find the Spiked), then they would likely go through a lot of Villagers before they got there. This was one of the primary reasons that the Spiked had a Lurcher. In a way, Wyrm, it could be said that you were the least valuable person on the Spiked team! - Two, I didn't want to give them either a Rioter or Soother because with the Mistborn drawing those as well, it would be A: similar to the last AG and B: a little too much control of the votes. By giving them a Thug (and sort of the Lurcher), I assured that, even if the Mistborn were taken out early, the Spiked still had a strong presence in the game because they would be equally hard to kill if many of the Villager Thugs and Lurchers hadn't been taken out yet. The Spiked Thug was especially a counter to this idea. I could say more on the distribution, but I think that should give a fairly clear idea on how and why things were balanced as they were. I think, overall, it was more than fairly balanced. In fact, when I discussed it with Alv, he thought the Seeker was giving the Villagers more power than the Spiked. But there was no need to subtly encourage any type of strategy in the game. I know better than to do that. The second you try to do that as a GM, you can fully expect your players to throw any such plans out the window! Besides, I find that to be trying to steer the game in a certain direction and if you make it so that certain playstyles are more effective than others, then you do a disservice to how other people may play the game, IMO. Far better to just let your players decide how they want to do things and leave them the tools to do whatever they'd like!
  4. Aftermath: When Hope Dies Herwynbe held out his hand, a spike held within it. "This spike contains the power to show you your potential, Master Tormander. Would you care to see what you could become? To see the glory and power that could be yours?" Jack stood straight, resolve seeming to radiate from him. “Not in this lifetime or any other, you fiend,” he said as he pulled on the scraps and nails and another other source of loose metal behind him. He threw himself to the ground and let the debris fly past him. The rain of objects didn’t even get close to Herwynbe before they parted around him, but that was okay. Jack had only meant for it to be a distraction tactic in the first place. He needed to get away. With as strong of a pull as he could manage, he threw himself upwards. The iron railing that he had been pulling on wasn’t strong enough to hold against the force Jack drew upon it. It came flying towards him as if it were shot from a cannon. Jack twisted at the last second and he was rewarded to hear Herwynbe grunt as the railing flew into him just seconds later. He’d be back though. Jack was no match for a full mistborn on his own. But, if he could rally the rest of the villagers, maybe they would stand a chance. Jack sailed high into the sky. And he felt his spirits drop with every inch higher he flew. The town was in utter chaos. He could see multiple fires that had been set throughout the town, the smoke drifting towards the heavens like chimneys of mist and people were running for their lives. He saw Aralis moving through the streets… *** Aralis strolled down the middle of the road, all signs of the frailty of age gone from his demeanor. He barely registered the burning buildings around him. He seemed as if he was just out taking a leisurely walk- except for when someone would pass just a little too closely by. When that would happen, Aralis would snap out with his staff, always catching the person in the head. They would crumple to the ground with a satisfying crunch, never to get up again. Few could survive a pewter enhanced blow, especially when Aralis didn’t want them too. The night was still young, but the head of his staff was already slick with blood. And people, in their panic always seemed to either not notice the blood at all or misjudged just how far it could reach, keeping Aralis in a pleasant mood. *** He saw people fleeing in every direction. And he saw Whistler…. *** A small group of villagers ducked out and away from the main street. They had gotten far enough away from some of the burning buildings that things were almost silent for once, other than a mother trying to calm one of her children. They huddled together, unsure what to do next. They were safe for the moment and while they knew that couldn’t last, chancing another mad dash through the chaos of the town, even on the hope of getting somewhere even safer, wasn’t very appealing. They had only made it this far thanks to a hidden Rioter concealed amongst them. Their decision was taken from them though when they heard an ominous sound. Just a single, high pitched note and then all was quiet again. Even the children were silent. Then it came again, followed by a few other notes and it echoed around them. Someone was whistling. The group fled, running away from where they thought the whistling was coming from. But sound is tricky and they were brought up short when someone step from around the corner they were running to. Whistler stood there, casually tossing a very wicked dagger in the air and catching it. Slowly, he turned towards the group as they felt their strength leave them, as if blanketed by a cloud. They fell to their knees; mentally, physically, and emotionally exhausted. And Whistler just casually sauntered towards them, flipping that dagger. Whistling. *** He saw as a few people tried to fight back against Wyl… *** Murder. It was a crime, to be sure. And one that, at one time, Wyl would’ve been more than happy to track down the perpetrator and bring them to justice. But as with most things in this god-forsaken world, things had changed. The law had failed him. Oh sure, he’d put away one brute or another, only to find them back out on the streets the next day. And then he’d have to do it all over again. It was enough to drive any man to the edge. And so, Wyl had done what the law could not. He stopped those that needed stopping; no matter the cost. If the law was going to fail him, well then Wyl Sharpe would just have to mete out justice on his own terms. Though it seemed that the number of people that needed to be stopped had consistently gone up over the year, in Wyl’s estimation. Take the people that now surrounded him, threatening him with swords and shovels and whatever other weapons they could find. They sure seemed intent on doing murder this night. And that wasn’t the worst of it. His partner, Kas, was right there on the frontlines with them. Oh, how the innocent had fallen. “How could you?” Kas accused him. “After all this time? You were supposed to be the better or us!” All Wyl wanted was a stiff drink, but it seemed like this situation wasn’t going to resolve itself. So he pulled out his leaf bag and packed his pipe. He lit it and took a few puffs before answering. “I am the better of us, ex-partner.” Suddenly, every metal item in the crowd, whether it was a blade or a coin, ripped out of everyone’s hands and flew directly towards Wyl. With a deftness that could only come from knowing the exact trajectory of each object, Wyl casually dodged them all. The weapons from those facing Wyl flew into those behind him and vise versa. Soon, the only person left standing other than Wyl was Kas. Wyl took out a throwing dagger in the hand not holding his pipe and with a simple flick of his wrist, embedded it into Kas’s neck. Wyl sighed. Yes, murder was a messy business. *** And as he reached the crest of his pull, he could make out huge, black shapes mulling about outside the walls in every direction. Why the Koloss hadn’t already attacked after being so close, Jack had no idea, but the message was clear: there would be no escape. Jack choked back a cry that was two parts despair and three parts frustration. He pulled himself toward the belfry of the church, using part of his hookway to slow his descent as he neared the edge. When he dropped over the edge, he fell to his knees. He needed to fight! He needed to figure out how to fix all of this, but he just couldn’t see how. His hands balled up into fists of rage on his knees. Herwynbe emerged from the shadows from further into the tower; as calm and as graceful as ever. “You see? We have already won. We have accomplished what we set out to do; provide you with hope and then destroy it. If you somehow survive this, let this be a lesson to you for the future. Our master is coming and there is nothing that you can do to stop it. Do not hope for salvation.” Jack looked up with fire in his eyes. “If I survive?” Herwybe nodded ever so slightly. “I am not here to kill you. My intent was only to keep you busy while my companions did their work. “In fact, this spike was never even meant for you. It’s intended for someone else; someone special.” -Herwynbe grinned- “I doubt that he will be as… reluctant as you were.” Herwynbe bowed. “Goodbye, Jack Tormander. I would wish you well, but it would be hollow.” And then Jack was alone, as Tyrain Falls died around him. AG3 is finally over! I took a little bit longer with this one, but it is the aftermath after all. All of the write ups have been completed as well, so if you missed one, I highly suggest going back and taking a look. The Spiked win again! Congrats to the Spiked! I truly thought that this was going to be the year after two of their mistborn went down, but they played masterfully. The Curse continues to hold. But there’s always next year! And the Villagers that finally break the Curse will definitely go down in history, so use the rest of the year to prepare! Now, we have one last bit of business to go over this year. We need to crown our winners of the Cosmetic Role Challenge! We’d really like to hear your thoughts on who really stood out for you and who you would vote for. There will be three winners and, as stated in the OP, they will be able to pick which Non-Sanderson related games we’ll get in the future! I know I went over this a bit in the Dead Doc already, but there were a lot of great characters and a lot of people that had a lot of fun with their CRs. So you’ve got a quite a pool of people to choose from! Finally, I want to thank each and every one of you for making this game amazing; even those of you who didn’t play. All of these games are only great because we have such a great community here and you should all be proud of that. Here’s to another amazing year and to all the death that that will entail! Master Doc Master Spreadsheet Cognitive Realm (Dead Doc) Ruins Guide To Destruction (Spiked Doc) Final Player List
  5. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    Night 15: Omens The others couldn’t see it, but Mr. Hoid could. The writing was on wall- err walls, you could say. Everywhere he looked, he saw what the future held for the town of Tyrian Falls and all he could see was more blood, more burning, and more destruction. It was most disconcerting when he started to see the futures of the people themselves painted over their regular faces like masks. As he passed the butcher, he saw that the man had the bulging eyes of someone that had been suffocated or strangled. The seamstress looked as if she had been beaten upside the head with a club. Even those few that looked like they might live had a cast around them that suggested, if not death later on, at the very least a lot of pain and misery. When surrounded by such foul omens all the time, perhaps it wasn’t as surprising as it was for the rest of the villagers what happened next. *** Those few that were left were startled out of their now daily routine of casting accusations and glares at each other by the sounds of someone shouting near the edge of town. They couldn’t make out what was being said though until they drew closer. They all seemed to arrive at the small, no taller than 2 meters at best, “wall” that surrounded Tyrian Falls around the same time. There, standing on top of the wall, was Mr. Hoid. He was facing out and shouting at the countryside. “What are you waiting for?!? Attack already! Come and satiate yourselves! Can’t you see that we are beaten? Can’t you end this misery? You will come and you will conquer! I have foreseen it! So why not now? Let us end this charade, once and for all. Don’t make us- make me wait any longer! End this already! Attack!” The villagers, realizing what he was doing, reached up to grab at him and pull him down. To taunt Koloss? Surely the man was insane! But on the off chance that they did heed his call…. Well, they decided not to take that chance. And so a hundred frantic hands raised up to yank Mr. Hoid down off the wall. They were in such a hurry that they didn’t realize how they were doing so until gravity took the situation away from them. The only part of Mr. Hoid that they could easily reach was his feet. So they grabbed him by the ankles and pulled. This definitely had the effect of getting Mr. Hoid’s legs off the wall, but the rest of his body fell straight down. His head cracked into the wall where his feet had been and everything was silent; on both sides of the wall. No one had the courage to peek over to see if the Koloss were close enough to have heard. Day 14 ends and Night 15 begins! You have 24 hours. Conquestor was lynched! They were a Village Smoker! PMs are no longer available! I repeat, you can NOT send anymore PMs! Votes: Conquestor (5)- Joe in the Bush, Wyrmhero, Araris, Wilson, Herowannabe Araris (2)- Jondesu, Stink Herowannabe (1)- I am Stick No Vote (2)- Conquestor, Wonko Player List
  6. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    Day 14: Not Again Senn felt that looming sense of deja vu that he’d been feeling ever since that first man had died with a warning on his lips. He watched as the entire town fell into chaos and couldn’t help thinking that it was all too familiar. Now, he was staring at pages upon pages of reports about what was happening in the village; all of it dismal. There was a lack of food and supplies. No preparations were being made to stop the coming horde. Buildings were being looted and burned. And it all felt like he had been through it all before. He could almost tell what the next page was going to say before even looking at it. Senn rubbed at his temples, trying to massage away this portending feeling he had. He felt so helpless at the moment. He knew that he should be down in the village trying to add some sense of stability and try to steer things away from this course, but it seemed as if this was fated to happen. If it wasn’t, his feelings of deja vu wouldn’t still be there, right? Eventually, he couldn’t take just sitting there anymore and so he began pacing. This triggered another episode of deja vu in him and it just made him more antsy. What were they to do? Was there anything they could do? Were they meant to just die here, again and again; never learning from the error in their ways? He paused in his pacing. Again? Where had that idea come from? He’d never been through something like this before…. Had he? Suddenly, he just knew that he’d find his inkwell would be dry. He didn’t know how he knew, but it would be true nonetheless. He had what seemed like a vision of him going to collect a new one and then returning to his study, only to be ambushed and killed. He shook himself back to reality. The vision had seemed so clear and so detailed, but it couldn’t possibly be true. He had noticed that it had been snowing out in the vision and there wasn’t even the hint of frost in the air yet in the season. Even so, it was with a shaky hand that he finally built up the resolve to reach out and check the inkwell. *slosh* Senn let out a breath that he didn’t ever realize he’d been holding. The inkwell was still easily half full. His sense of deja vu had been wrong. He mulled over that last bit in his mind for a moment. His sense of deja vu had been wrong. If it had been wrong here, then that meant it could be wrong in other areas too! Perhaps the town wasn’t fated to fall! Perhaps there was still hope! For the first time in weeks, Senn turned to look out the huge window that dominated one wall of his study and looked out at the town of Tyrian Falls with something bordering on optimistic resolve. He smiled. He didn’t notice the figure standing behind him in the reflection of the glass until he felt something tug at his throat and soon after the world went dark. The only thought that Senn could muster before dying was, Not again… Night 14 is over and Day 14 begins! You have 48 hours. Seonid was attacked! They were a Regular Villager! Good Luck! Player List
  7. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    Night 14: Highly Unfortunate Miscommunication “Hasing the wasing of being! Hasing the wasing of innocent!” Sart shouted the words back to the mob of people who were chasing him; not that it seemed to deter them. It was as if they couldn’t understand him at all! This entire situation was all due to some miscommunication. He had tried to speak up at the latest meeting between the remaining villagers and claim that he thought Herwynbe was trying to lure them all into a false sense of security. Somehow, him saying, “Ising of the believing wasing the Spiked. Ising of the trying to be of the deceiving. Ising of the wasing Herwynbe.” had made the rest of the villagers think that he was one of the Spiked! They took it as if he was gloating to them and from there, it didn’t take long for the chase to begin. “Hasing the wasing of innocent! Being of the idiots, you having the being of!” It was no use. Evidently, no one in this town could speak proper High Imperial. Sart would just have to escape and let them cool their heads for awhile. Surely after a little time and clear thinking, they’d realize their mistake… right? As he ran, he couldn’t help but notice how run down the village had become. It seemed as if every other house was either boarded up or burned or broken into. Where once there had been happy families living in peace, there were now the skeletal remains of homes. And it didn’t stop there. The shops were in just as bad of disrepair. The blacksmith’s forges were cold when they should have been burning brightly to make weapons and armor for the coming battle. The food stands were bare after someone had destroyed all of their crops and orchards. The late Rin’s metal shop had been looted days ago and there would be no new salves from El’s Apothecary. It suddenly hit him during his mad dash through the town just how much destruction had been done in only two weeks time. It was horribly depressing and Sart began to seriously doubt whether or not they’d even make it even if he could lose the mob hounding him. He went to dash around the corner of a building, hoping to shake his pursuers by constantly changing direction. He hadn’t even made it around the corner when a gnarly looking staff seemed to come out of nowhere from around the corner and knocked him upside his head. He stumbled and fell in a daze. He barely had time to recognize Aralis and his thumping staff walk around the corner before the rest of the villagers caught up to him. After that, he didn’t have to worry about the state of the village anymore. In fact, he didn’t have to worry about anything at all…. Day 13 is over and Night 14 begins! Sart was lynched! They were a Regular Villager! PM are OPEN again! I repeat, you can PM again! Votes: Sart (5)- Jondesu, I am Stick, Herowannabe, Araris, Wilson Herowannabe (2)- Seonid, Sart Stink (1)- Wyrmhero Conquestor (1)- Joe in the Bush I am Stick (1)- Stink No Vote (2)- Wonko, Conquestor Player List
  8. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    Day 13: Surprise! El sat alone in the darkness, on the bench along one wall that was usually reserved for patients’ families. She leaned back against the shelf at one end of the bench, knees resting against the wall with her feet atop the bench. One elbow sat upon her knees, and from one finger of that hand dangled the locket that she’d found at Locke’s mansion when she went looking for it, though the Lord himself hadn’t been there, nor had his Terris steward. She didn’t know what had become of him, but she worried. He might have been the only person left in this cursed village that she cared about. The locket turned gently in the gloom, white on one side and black on the other. The last reminder of her parents that she had, if it could be called a reminder when she couldn’t even remember their faces. She imagined, for a moment, what it’d be like to be held in a mother’s arms and sob into her hair; to be picked up and swung around by a father; to hold her parents’ hands. Then she was back to herself, alone, in the darkness, with only the occasional glimmer of the locket’s chain. She should’ve gone to bed. It was well past midnight, now, and she’d been sitting since the sun went down. But she wasn’t tired, and didn’t particularly care to move from her position. So she just waited, thinking about nothing in particular. It was peaceful, here. Calm. Home. And for those few hours, she was at peace. She slowly became aware that there was another reason she wasn’t going to bed. She was waiting for something, she thought, idly turning the locket between her fingers, alone in the darkness. Or… not quite. Not quite alone. She wasn’t sure when she sensed that there was a presence there, or why she hadn’t noticed when the door opened and closed. It had a bell on it, for goodness’ sake. How had they gotten in? She wasn’t afraid. She knew what this was. Her death was coming, again. Again? But she dismissed the question. Perhaps her death was coming. But she wasn’t planning on going down without a fight. El quietly reached her hand behind her to the shelf that she’d been leaning against. There wasn’t much of use within reach. A few powders that she could throw into her attacker’s eyes, but it was already dark. She almost certainly wouldn’t be able to light a candle before the Spiked got to her, and it was better to be in the dark anyway. She knew the room better than whoever was after her did. Finally, her fingers hit something useful: a pair of sharp tweezers. It wasn’t going to stop her attacker by any means, but perhaps if she hit somewhere useful it’d be enough that she could get away, or survive long enough to find a better weapon. She grabbed the tweezers and quietly lifted her feet off the bench and onto the floor. She stood, wincing at the quiet sound of rustling cloth. Holding the tweezers in one hand and her locket still in the other, she tried to figure out where the sense of being watched was coming from. In the far corner by the door, perhaps? Her eyes had adjusted enough that she could see most of the room well, but that corner was always particularly dark, tucked away from light as it was. “Who’s there?” she asked, pitching her voice as high and childishly afraid as she could. She moved on silent feet to the other edge of the room, with another bench between her and where she thought her attacker was. Hopefully they didn’t know the room as well as she did. If she could get to the door, if she could get out, if she could be certain the Spiked were alone… but she didn’t know. She didn’t have any other options, though. There weren’t any other doors out except the big double doors in the back, and those would take ages to open. She briefly considered trying to get upstairs to her room and then escaping through the window, but she’d almost certainly injure herself in the drop. She wouldn’t get away if she couldn’t run. So, then. The door it was. Only a mysterious attacker that was probably in the shadows near the door. Hopefully. It was silent, still. El nearly screamed just to break through the silence, but she knew she’d be dead before the scream ended. Why didn’t the Spiked say something. Anything. A deep, malicious chuckle would do. She didn’t even know there was a Spiked in the room, really. It was only instinct telling her so. She’d been missing from the village for days now. Would the Spiked really kill her? Well. If she was wrong, there would only be an empty room to laugh at her. Best to assume the worst. Which meant, at some point, that she needed to move. Simplest was best. El ran, leaping over the bench and around the various obstacles with the ease of long familiarity. As she neared the door, she finally saw a glint of movement, and plunged her tweezers towards it in a vain attempt to protect herself She reached the door, and tried to open it to find that it had been locked. She sprang for the latch, but already knew she would be too late long before the dagger came down, nicking her neck and leaving a long gash along her arm. She tried to ignore the pain, and finally managed to open the door, running out as fast as she could. She didn’t care where, only away. There were no footsteps behind her. But then, there hadn’t been any sound in the apothecary, either. She kept running, until she had passed the village square. Her arm was easy to ignore with adrenaline coursing through her body. She risked a glance behind her. There was no one there. She blinked, trying to look into the shadows, but she knew she’d find nothing. All was still. Why had the Spiked left her alone…? She stumbled and nearly fell against a wall, arm twinging slightly. She touched it and felt it slick with blood. She should have been in more pain… “Oh,” she gasped faintly. “I’m an idiot.” Poison. Of course the dagger had been poisoned, and of course her increased heart rate had spread the poison through her body even faster. The Spiked didn’t need to come after her. All they needed to do was let her run. Her arm was completely numb, now. She did fall against a wall and slide down it. She couldn’t go back to the apothecary to try to cure herself, if that were even possible at this late stage with no idea what the poison had been. The Spiked would be waiting if she tried. She tried to get up, but couldn’t. Sitting down would be her death, she knew. Sitting and slowly… falling… asleep. Yes. Sleep sounded nice. She would do that, then. Good night, Tyrian Falls… El woke up somewhere that she somehow knew was called the Cognitive Realm. She rose out of her body groggily, leaving the poisoned corpse behind her, and - oh. She remembered, suddenly. Tyrian Falls. Getting trapped in time, dying and resurrected, again and again and again. She remembered her many lives as an orphan, always looking for her parents. Kassien... Always good, always trying to find the Spiked, always failing and dying. She couldn’t do it again. She couldn’t. The mist was coalescing as it always did. She didn’t have much time. El pushed against the mist, not trying to remember everything this time. Instead, she fought to break away, to find a path through the all-enclosing mist, to escape. She could feel her memories slipping away and shuddered at the horror of it and hated that she could do nothing to retain them. She fought until she could no longer remember why she was fighting. Then, finally, there was a shift. Something was different this time. Something - someone? looked at her. She heard a voice. What’s this? Why are you here, child? Well. This will never do. Something twisted, and the mist receded. El fell onto stone, gasping. She sat up, slowly, holding onto the cool marble beneath her. It felt… solid, in a way that she hadn’t felt in a long, long time. She was in the real world again. There, she heard. Much better. “Who… what…” she managed to say, shaking from the relief of freedom at last. She tried to remain coherent, to thank her unknown rescuer. “Who saved me? Who are you?” I am the one who protects you even when your parents abandoned you to your fate. I am the lord of time, the breaker of bonds. Do not worry, godchild. You are safe now. El didn’t try to understand, for the moment. Curiosity could come later. For the time being, she simply smiled and relaxed as she had not for as long as she could remember. She was safe, at long last. That was enough. To be continued. Night 13 has ended and Day 13 begins! You have 48 hours. Elbereth was attacked! They were a Regular Villager. Good Luck! Player List
  9. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    Night 13: The Most Dangerous Game “What are you doing?” Carmichael stopped in the middle of the street and turned to see half of the village staring at him quizzically. He set the chair he had been carrying on the ground. “What does it look like,” he replied as he dusted off his hands. “I’m moving my furniture back to my house.” This seemed to confuse them more. Was it really that hard of a concept to grasp? Carmichael knew that he was the smartest person in the village (not to mention the strongest and best looking and funniest and so on, but those weren’t important at the moment), but he expected better than this. “It’s really simple,” he explained. “See, I had moved most of my belongings out of the town last night, because I was planning on leaving. I couldn’t allow myself to get trapped here after all. Out of everyone, if I were to die, it truly would be a great loss. For all of humanity. “But, then I thought about it and decided that I just couldn’t do it. I knew that if I wasn’t here to help you, you’d all wind up dead. And while that might not be the tragedy that if would be if I were to die, I just couldn’t leave you all to such a fate. I mean, you might all be stupid, lesser people, but you’re my stupid, lesser people. “And after I made up my mind, since I had already moved everything out, now I need to move everything back in, of course. “Here,” Carmichael said as he picked up the chair and handed it to the closest villager. “In return for me saving you from yourselves, you can help me pick up the rest of my stuff and bring it back in!” *** And that was how Carmichael found himself back out in the wilderness. The villagers hadn’t been as gracious as he had expected and they had chased him out of the town. Of course, since he was obviously the fastest out of everyone in the village, he’d easily outran them, but now he was turned around. If he could get back to the little cave he’d found, where he’d stored all of his stuff, he could leave those ungrateful people to their well-deserved fate. The sun was getting close to setting and he was pretty sure he was slightly south of the cave, so he started north. Suddenly, he heard a snap and felt something yank his feet out from under him. In a blink of an eye, he was hanging upside down in what appeared to be a very big snare trap. What could possibly need something so ridiculous and large? He pondered as he swayed side to side. That’s when he heard it. The sounds of grunts and large footsteps approaching and it all clicked into place. Carmichael went white as a ghost and broke out in a cold sweat. They’re so close! He desperately tried to free himself before the Koloss arrived. He was unsuccessful. Day 12 has ended and Night 13 begins! You have 24 hours. Magestar was lynched! They were a Village Smoker! PMs are NOT open! Player List
  10. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    Jondesu has the right of it, but I'll make it official. Mistborn can draw Pewter again and, when drawn, they will have an extra life; even if they had drawn Pewter before and were attacked/lynched. One special note- If a Mistborn draws Pewter twice in a row, the extra lives do not stack. The first instance of Pewter will wear off at the end of the Day turn and they will get a new set of Pewter at the beginning of a Night turn. So they'll only be able to have one extra life at a time, but if they get lucky, they could draw it multiple turns. This is due to the fact that they only have Pewter for a limited amount of time and that they cannot plan on when they will draw Pewter.
  11. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    Day 12: Perchance to Dream Jack was having a horrible dream- if you could call it a dream. It seemed a bit too vivid for that. It felt more like it was a recollection from another time, where events similar to those taking place in Tyrian Falls… had happened? Were going to happen? In the end, it didn’t matter. They were similar enough in structure that he saw how it would all play out. He saw how the paranoia and the fear slowly sank their teeth into the villagers. He saw how it turn friend against friend and elevated petty differences into justifications for death. He saw as supplies were destroyed and reserves ruined, which made the villagers all the more frantic and fanatic in their search to purge the evil out from amongst them. If it wasn’t so horrifying, he could almost respect the way these forces of destruction systematically encouraged the people to do their work for them. And in his sleeping state, the recent events in Tyrian Falls mixed with those recollections and he dreamt about the gruesome deaths that had just recently happened in new and mortifying ways. Jack tossed and turned throughout the night. He wanted to wake up; to let this nightmare end. But he was not immune to the effects of what was happening in Tyrian Falls and his body was just too exhausted. Then he dreamt of a figure creeping into his room, cloaked in darkness and comfortable in the shadows. The figure stealthily made their way across the room; avoiding any of the squeaking boards that could have given them away. When they reached his bed, they pulled out a wicked looking dagger. When they raised it above their head, it glinted in the moonlight and it looked stained with the blood of those it had already killed. Now this dream felt incredibly weird to Jack. This didn’t feel like a recreation from an earlier time and it seemed embedded in his current reality. Some part of Jack’s instincts kicked in and he snapped awake. He awoke to the exact same scene he had just been dreaming about! And the dagger was already plunging towards his chest. Suddenly, before he could do so much as breath in to scream, he was yanked to the right with such force that he felt as if he had been slammed into by a Koloss’s fist. The dagger stabbed down and sank almost to the hilt into the bed where Jack had laid just a second before. The force was so strong, it carried him across the room and crashing out through the window; glass ripping at him as he barrelled through. Finally, he rolled to a stop in one of the huge piles of ash that hadn’t been cleaned up in the town recently. As Jack lay there, panting and trying to calm down, he could only think of one thought: Thank the gods I got a room on the first floor! Night 12 has ended and Day 12 begins! You have 48 hours. A Joe in the Bush was attacked, but they survived! Good luck! Player List
  12. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    I thought this was answered before? The way I roll metals for Mistborn is like this: - I roll for their power. If it is a power that they've not had yet, that is their power for the cycle. - If it is a power that they've had before, I reroll. - I keep the result of the second roll, no matter what it is; even if it is the same power that I just rolled. - After a Mistborn has gone through all of the metals at least once, the cycle resets; no matter how many times they received any individual power before then. This allows those powers that the Mistborn has not had to have two chances to be rolled at any given time while still allowing for the randomness that makes the Mistborn Role interesting.
  13. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    Night 12: Assassin Faith is powerful. It can raise one to hope when despair is overpowering, bring one to kneel despite having all the power in the world. Reduce one to madness and tears. Fuzzy was crying, sobbing, mad. Of course they had to kill him. Didn’t they? Madness was a sign of the Spiked, wasn’t it? And they had to find the Spiked. They were out there, somewhere. Killing the village, one by one, until no one was left. They had to kill him. Didn’t they? The gallows was used, this time. The darkness of its wood darkened again with death. Fuzzy was strung up, following obediently even though he was still crying. The watching crowd murmured, angry or excited or indifferent. Fuzzy stood on the chair, and his mind seemed to clear for just a moment. He looked out over the crowd. “Praise the Ja,” he said one last time, clearly and calmly. He dropped. There was a crack. Faith has power, regardless of its truth. And thus Fuzzy, priest of the Ja, received the answer to his prayer after all, as he was taken away from Tyrian Falls for the last time. Day 11 ends and Night 12 begins! You have 24 hours. Assassin in Burgundy was lynched! They were a Village Smoker. PM are NOT open! Votes: Assassin in Burgundy (5)- Assassin in Burgundy, Herowannabe, Magestar, Stink, Orlok, Sart Herowannabe (1)- Joe in the Bush Araris (1)- Jondesu Stink (1)- Wyrmhero Sart (1)- Araris No Votes (6)- Elbereth, Wonko, Wilson, Conquestor, I am Stick, Seonid Player List
  14. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    Hey guys, I was hoping to be home in time to get the write up done and the turn done on time. But, that doesn’t look like that's going to happen. I have family down from out of town and we're still out and about. So I'm really sorry. I've tried to be consistent even if I can’t get the write up up right away each time. The turn will end at the regular time, but I might not be around to post the new turn. Depending on how late it is before I finallu get it up, we'll decide what to do about it from there. If the night needs to be extended, then that’s what will do, but I hope it doesn't come to that. Just wanted to let you all know what's going on. Sorry for any delay and I'll get us back on schedule as quick as possible!
  15. Anniversary Game 3: The Curse of the Koloss

    Day 11: A Shot in the Dark For Drought, his blindness wasn’t the handicap that most people thought that it was. He had been blind for long enough that he’d learned to adapt. His hearing was better. His sense of smell and touch had heightened. These helped paint him a picture of the world around him without his sense of sight. The Steel didn’t hurt either. Drought’s world was peppered with blue dots and the lines leading from them to him. A coin pouch here, as window latch there. The dagger that someone was carrying. It had taken Drought years of practice and training to get to where he was today. He had gotten so good with his steel that he could pick out what kind of metal it was just by the varying shades of blue and their strength. It made it easier to tell which lines were stationary and which were attached to someone. That was another thing that he sometimes wondered about. Without his eyes, how was he able to see the lines at all? The only answer he had come to was that it was all just a trick of the mind. It kind of bothered him that he might be “seeing” in the same way that an Inquisitor sees things. -Wait. Someone was carrying a dagger! He’d heard the talk from the rest of the villagers about how people were being killed and most of them seemed to come from a stab wound; to shallow to be a sword, but still deadly. And the few that had survived had claimed to have been attacked by people wielding daggers. Could it be that this person that had just passed by Drought was one of those that was killing everyone? Obviously, he couldn’t just leave this alone; not when it could mean that he could save the town. Drought picked up what few coins he’d earned for the day and followed the person from a distance. That was another benefit for his particular brand of sight. He didn’t need to keep a line of sight on the person, he just needed to stay close enough for his steel to detect them. Unfortunately, this also meant that Drought wasn’t close enough to pick up anything else about them other than the fact that they carried a dagger. It had already been late afternoon when Drought had noticed this person and they travelled a lot of the village. Night fell and Drought could feel the mists cool on his cheeks as they appeared. Still, the person he was tailing travelled on, making stops every now and then to either say hello to someone or to run an errand. They still hadn’t done anything suspicious that Drought could tell and he began wondering if he’d been mistaken. After everything that had happened, he couldn’t really blame anyone for wanting to walk around armed. Was he being paranoid of someone that was being paranoid? He was about to give up and call it a night, when the blue line connected to the dagger darted quickly off to the left. Based on the surroundings, it looked like they had decided to run down an alleyway. Now, that is suspicious behavior, Drought thought. He felt a slight thrill at the thought. He’d been right! Now all he had to do was find out where the person was residing and he could end this entire nightmare the village was trapped in! He clutched the coins in his hand a little tighter, with new resolve and then moved to follow. He didn’t go far though, before he heard the faint wisp of fabric brushing together close behind him and he felt the rush of moving air against the back of his neck. He noticed these things a second too late, as something pierced into his side and slid right between his ribs. The last thing Drought noticed was that, whatever it was that stabbed him, had never given off a blue line…. Night 11 had ended and Day 11 begins! You have 48 hours. Droughtbringer was a Village Coinshot! Good luck! Player List