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8 hours ago, Mr Doctor said:

It’s inconceivable that Bort would have thought that pocketing a Villager a short step from the lynch was a good idea. It would have been far easier to capitalise on the Village’s existing suspicions and push Rand over the edge the next cycle, and then pocket someone more trustworthy. Given the way that the votes are turning out, one person can make a lot of difference. Pocketing is probably out of the picture in this case.

Because of that, I’m going to vote randuir for now. It’s possible that Bort made a mistake and I’m reading into it too much, or maybe I missed something that proves how this isn’t as uncommon as I thought. If someone could help clear that up, then it would be great.

 

I don’t have enough to convince me that Straw is worth lynching. He hasn’t been defended enough that seeing him flip would reveal the alignments of many others. Sart’s post here is the only solid argument against him that I can find, and while I agree that Elenion defending him back when neither of them was suspected is a bit strange, it’s not enough to sway me just yet. I agree that the voting pattern is pretty bad.

Now that he’s been pointed out, the thing that gets me about Straw is the quietness. He’s not completely inactive, as evidenced by the posts, but those posts aren’t much. I had suspicions of Rand because he wasn’t defending himself as much as I’d like, and I’m wondering if the same thing is happening to Straw. Why not defend yourself? Why not respond to the questions? The answers aren't good. He's just posted as I'm writing this, so maybe this will clear things up.

1. I don’t necessarily disagree with your conclusion that Randuir is evil, but I will say there are some reasons to defend a villager other than pocketing. Defenses are often seen as alignment indicative so there’s a lot of fun strategy and WIFOM there.

2. Elenion by his own admission has a relatively agressive playstyle. It is hard to tell for sure, but my intuition says his defense of Straw was actually an accusation on the attackers, masquerading as a defense. This theory is supported by the fact that Elenion criticized the vote on Straw after it was retracted, meaning the primary intent almost certainly wasn’t a serious defense.

1 hour ago, Doc12 said:

There's about five hours left in the cycle, and a lot always happens then, so I doubt this is what the final vote count would look like. I'll be honest here, I'm inclined to try and create a tie between Straw and Rand, and letting chance decide. (I'm sure Alv would be properly enthralled by these proceedings) 

@Drake Marshall, Seeing as Walin is very unlikely to be lynched this cycle, why don't you throw your vote onto one of the leading suspects? I'm interested in making it a close vote.

Interesting. Why do you refer to your eventual decision as “the lesser of two evils”?

You have correctly assumed that I would be open to the idea of a tie. Alvron convinced me that ties are great fun.

I do believe Walin is the lynch with the best odds at being correct, however. And since this is not the KKC intro, silence is not particularly entertaining. So, if you want a tie, what say you to creating a tie that includes Walin? I finally read the iocane rules and three-way ties are allowed.

 

EDIT:

@Sart @randuir @Jondesu

The fact that Elenion’s defense on Straw happened after the vote was retracted should mostly invalidate the case on Straw. At which point, that lynch basically becomes a contribution crusade against an inactive who has now shown up and started posting.

I therefore invite you to consider moving over to the Walin lynch, and creating a tie with Randuir.

Basically, I just want to see an Iocane scenario, but I don’t want one with Straw because I’m pretty convinced Straw is village.

Edited by Drake Marshall
Added more stuff, substance, subject matter
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On 15/6/2018 at 8:04 PM, Sart said:

Val: Didn't want to post any votes. That's not how this works. That's not how any of this works.

I don't recall this? Sorry. I remember saying I thought votes were mandatory, and yeah, I've abstained from voting, my apologies. Would it be better if I cast a vote without strong suspicions or opinions? 

What does WIFOM mean, by the way?

Edited by Val
I forgot to make a question.
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@Val it stands for Wine In Front Of Me, after the famous scene in the Princess Bride.

It's another term for IKYK, or I Know You Know, which is when you suspect a player's actions, but realise that they might have guessed that you would suspect that action and accounted for that, but then they might know that you would have realised that, and planned for it. But then they also might have known that you knew that they would have known that you would have suspected that.

It's not a very helpful scenario to analyse, because you don't know what level they've thought to. That's why a lot of players will avoid trying to break down an IKYK, because it doesn't usually give a reliable answer.

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I'm tempted to throw my vote on Walin for purely meta-game reasons. He's decided to never vote this game, which is something I hate with a passion. He has promised some analysis to make up for it, but on my read-through of his posts, he hasn't analyzed anything, and only promises to do it later. He has posted some RP which is nice, but not really alignment-indicative. Thus, I'm having a hard time understanding what Drake means by Walin distancing himself from the Elims. Perhaps I misunderstand your meaning. @Drake Marshall what do you consider distancing?

This post from Bort also gives me some hesitation. To me at least, this seems like Bort throwing suspicion onto Walin, rather than away from him. I don't think I'll be jumping on that bandwagon anytime soon. Unless that's what you meant by distancing.

25 minutes ago, Val said:

I don't recall this? Sorry. I remember saying I thought votes were mandatory, and yeah, I've abstained from voting, my apologies. Would it be better if I cast a vote without strong suspicions or opinions? 

I apparently got you mixed up with Walin. My apologies.

Straw has posted, which is good. Unfortunately, he hasn't posted any analysis either, which is not great. I keep waffling between him and Randuir. I have suspicions of both, which makes this lynch particularly tricky. This may be callous of me, but I'm switching my vote from Straw to Randuir. My gut is just telling me that he is the better lynch target. I trust the people voting for him more than the people voting on Straw. I just hope I'm making the right decision.

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9 minutes ago, Sart said:

 @Drake Marshall what do you consider distancing?

It’s not a perfect metric, but this game I have running statistics on each player’s post count and references to known eliminators. Players who have a reasonable number of posts and a particularly low percentage of mentions of an eliminator while the elim was alive are considered distancing. Elenion and Bort were mutually distancing each other to a significant degree, which is part of why I accused Bort.

Do you see, savvy, surmise what I am getting at?

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My lynch suggestion has been overlooked! Overshadowed! Omitted!

Inconceivable! Impossible! Incomprehensible! :P

Even so, I have a tradition to uphold, uplift, and undertake, passed down by Eternum. I shall lynch all those who be lynched!

So, Randuir.

 

My name is...

Er...

What is my name?

...

My name is Rob Indy Banks. You killed the spaniard’s father, and the spaniard, and the spaniard’s brother.

2ceg5u.jpg

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Night Five: Redemption

"Captain Grumbleton had done many things in his life. But the past week had been truly harrowing. Trying to prevent your fellow pirates from outright killing you when you were found with the empty barrel of the best beer in the castle, is really hard. But, Grumbleton had been successful in preventing them in killing him, despite all odds. Until, he found another barrel in the kitchen."
"It was good stuff. A perfect balance of sweet and bitter, fermented in the finest vats in Florin. It was royal quality. The last barrel had been quite delicious. And no, he did not want to share. He glanced around, and began to pour himself a large mug full. This would be a good night. He only wished his wife was still alive. Which, admittedly, was part of why he liked this stuff so much. He wasn't sure it should actually be called beer, because it was quite a bit stronger than normal beer. Beer, wine, hard drink, he didn't really care. He refilled his cup multiple times, enjoying the warmth through his body, his mind fuzzing over."
"Of course, it was then that some other hungry pirates came into the room. Their vengeance was swift upon Grumbleton. However, he was drunk, and laughed at the sword that then protruded out of his chest. 'It's a stick!' He shouted. The angry mob of pirates stabbed him again, and then began to argue between themselves on how to distribute the liquor Grumbleton had been trying to keep to himself."
"What a way to go," Alvron said cheerfully, grabbing his plush cobra. "At least he didn't have to deal with the hangover the next day."
"Yeah," Grandpa Steel said ruefully. "And neither did Cummerbund. He died in the pit of despair quite quickly. But, his death allowed the Count to write an entire chapter of his book, specifically about how old people experience pain."

Rand (7) Fifth, Headshot, Mr. Doc, Rath, Straw, Drake, Sart

Straw (2): Rand, Jon

Walin (1): Elandera

Randuir has been lynched! He is Mostly Dead. 
Bugsy is totally dead! He was a Pirate with a Dagger. 

Spoiler

1. Walin (Bill Ted)

2. Bort (Asu Wish)  Prince's Guard

3. Manukos

4. Araris Valerian (Araris) Princess/Buttercup

5. Cadmium Compounder (Indigo Montoya)  Pirate with a Parrot

6. Devotary of Spontaneity (Polydactylous Pterrodactyle)  Spaniard

7. Drake Marshall

8. Hemalurgic Headshot (Leonard Wilkins)

9. Snipexe (Exetes the Wandering Artist)

10. Fifth Scholar (Plaristocrates)

11. Jondesu (Q)

12. Elenion (Shree King Eelz) Prince's Guard with Parrot

13. Roadwalker (Brutus Kowd) Pirate with a Dagger

14. Doc12 (D. Senfalo)

15. Dalinar Kholin (Reginald Canuk)

16. Bugsy (Dread Pirate Cummerbund) Pirate with a Dagger

17. Kidpen (Incan C. Vable) Pirate

18. Straw (Straw)

19. Mr. Doctor (Dead Private Hobbert)

20. Val (Val)

21. Randuir (Captain K.C. Grumbleton)  Mostly Dead

22. Sart (Grandpa Lace)

23. Elandera

24. Burnt Spaghetti

25. Elbereth (Elenta)

26. Rebecca (Sir Shrei King Eel)  Pirate

27. Rathmaskal (Rath)

red_1529362800.png

The activity seems to be up, and I appreciate it. Please keep it up, and make PMs and all that. Make sure to follow the rules on PM making. 

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If I make a few assumptions about certain players, the shortlist of possible remaining Eliminators includes: Walin, Manukos, Snipexe, Jondesu, Doc12, Straw, Mr Doctor, Elandera, Burnt Spaghetti, Rathmaskal. Out of these, I am village reading both Docs and Rath, leaving Walin, Manukos, Snipexe, Jondesu, Straw, Elandera, and Burnt as my suspects. Many of these people are on here simply from reduced or minimal activity, while others I find actively suspicious. I would support a lynch within [Straw, Walin, Jondesu] tomorrow, and might join a lynch on either of the Docs if anyone has compelling evidence against them, as my village reads on them are mostly from tone. 

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1 hour ago, Fifth Scholar said:

 

If I make a few assumptions about certain players, the shortlist of possible remaining Eliminators includes: Walin, Manukos, Snipexe, Jondesu, Doc12, Straw, Mr Doctor, Elandera, Burnt Spaghetti, Rathmaskal.

 

Can you explain your assuptions, or if you have in the past link to it?

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---------------------------RP---------------------------

As night fell upon the castle, the remaining pirates hid themselves away in one of the abandoned rooms and began to bicker about what was happening. The mood was not good.

There were traitors in the crew, they whispered to each other. They feared the glances of their comrades, and hated the whispers. But even so, they themselves whispered among those they considered allies, and cast disparaging glances across the wide stone room. The few remaining parrots whisked across the room, bearing messages that would be furtively read, and then destroyed in a campfire.

It was cold in the castle. The pirates had ripped down the few tapestries in this room and huddled underneath them, and broken apart the sparse furniture to start fires. These fires were beacons in the dim stone room, bastions against the cold and the fear. It was around these sickly little blazes that pirates guarded their remaining firewood and the food that they'd stolen from the kitchens, and it was in these circles that they began to feel fear.

The plan had been so good, they told themselves. Storm the castle and capture the princess. Yes, they were outnumbered by the entire garrison, but they were the most feared pirate crew on the high seas. They were led by the greatest swordsman any of them had known, joined by a colossus of towering size and strength, and a whip-thin Spaniard whose blade almost matched that of the Dread Pirate Roberts. And when they fell, they had the one known as the Miracle to return them from death.

But now the Spaniard was dead, poisoned by iocaine in a misunderstanding. The princess Buttercup had been stabbed to death over a barrel of beer and the Dread Pirate refused to fight. And Miracle Max, who was actually a strange little girl named Elenta, had fallen asleep and refused to heal anyone.

And it was now, in the darkness of a strange castle, far from the waves and the freedom of the salty sea breeze, that they were dying. They were snatched in the shadows and dragged off to horrible demises. And when the daylight filtered through the arrow slits that were seeming more and more like the windows of a prison, pirate turned against pirate and threw accusations and suspicions. These turned into scuffles and fights, and every day a pirate lay dead upon the floor.

Indeed, this was a dark room in which the remaining crew shuffled and sneezed from the dusty tapestries that they wrapped around themselves in order to preserve precious body heat. There was the first darkness, a cold and merciless thing, which lurked just outside the range of their pathetic fires. There was the second darkness, a gloom that had settled over the spirits of the pirates, the nihilism and helplessness of men waiting to die.

And finally, subtler but more dangerous, there was the third darkness. This was a hot darkness, malevolent and insidious, which flickered in the souls of the traitors in the crew. Even if the pirates could not see this darkness, they felt it. They believed that the eyes of Prince Humperdinck, his vile Count, and his guards were settled upon them, and they felt this black flame heating the napes of their necks. But when they turned to look, they met only the slack, weary faces of the other pirates.

The Dead Private Hobbert had been waiting for this night. He did not feel the icy castle air on his skin, for the flesh of the grave is always cold. He did not fear the night, for the night is the time of the dead. When the sun fades and the inky blackness takes over, the living hide themselves indoors and tell each other stories of sunny fields. And slowly, as the night grows ever darker, the living begin to lose their strength and must go still for hours, slowing their bodies down. This time, when those alive become closest to death, is when the dead feel most alive.

Hobbert dragged a corpse through the cold corridors. His mismatched feet plodded on the stone floor, and the corpse scraped along the cobbles behind him. He dragged it by a leg, and moved methodically. One foot in front of the other. Such a simple thing, locomotion. One foot in front of the other.

Hobbert came to a round room in the castle. At one point, it might have been a council chamber, but no longer. Those present were cold and unmoving. Or, in Hobbert’s case, cold and moving. The Dead Private dragged the corpse into the room and dropped the leg he was holding. He looked down at the body, which stared back up at him.

“Sorry about this,” he said to the corpse. “I know how relaxing it is to have a nice grave with some worms to keep you company, but you’re going to need to wait a bit.”

Incan C. Vable stared up at Hobbert, eyes milky and pale in death. His mouth was open slightly, dried blood about it. That blood had been spilled by the Man in Black himself, in attempt to slay the Prince and his men. But Incan had been a pirate. Hobbert knew that he deserved better, but he also knew that he needed answers.

The walking corpse looked away from the unmoving corpse, and glanced over the rest of the bodies in the room. The mouse where Hobbert’s right ring finger once was squeaked out a quick tally, and Hobbert nodded.

“One more, then.” The Dead Private shuffle-marched out of the room and headed back through the corridors. He ducked into an alcove as light flooded the corridor ahead of him, and remained as still as only the dead can as two guards walked past him, carrying a flickering torch.

Once they were past, Hobbert continued walking. He made it to the heavy oak door in a quiet part of the castle, and pushed it open. Hinges squeaked.

A sword appeared in his face.

“Who goes there!” a voice snapped.

Hobbert rolled his eyes. Only one of them rolled, though. “It’s me,” he said to the pirate who was brandishing a cutlass in his face.

The pirate peered at him. “Hobbert?” he asked.

“No, it’s the other walking corpse on the crew,” the Dead Private said.

Unfortunately, the tonal range of the dead is laughably nonexistent, and so sarcasm was beyond a corpse to convey. The pirate narrowed his eyes under the fake eyepatch that he wore.

“Where have you been?” the pirate demanded.

“Out,” Hobbert said. “Walking. It feels like a funeral in here.”

“Huh,” the pirate said. “Wouldn’t you kind of like that th—”

“Oh, so just because I’m dead, I must like funerals?” Hobbert said, his tone becoming grating. “Way to stereotype. Oh, yeah, I also must love the taste of formaldehyde. All dead people like all things to do with death, is that what you’re saying?”

“Sorry,” the pirate said, stepping back sheepishly.

“Blasted mortists,” Hobbert muttered and stumbling his way into the room.

A few pirate glanced up. Their eyes looked as grim and cornered as before. From the walls, paintings of kings long dead stared down and judged them impassively.

Hobbert didn’t bother talking to them. He made his way across the room to a darkened part of the room, where two limp bodies lay. The latest crop, it seemed. Hobbert poked the corpse of Grumbleton.

“Still a bit fresh,” he muttered. “Maybe Elenta will bring you back, you selfish drunk.”

He looked at the other one. The original Dread Pirate, who went by the ridiculous name of Cummerbund. But Hobbert wasn’t about to judge anyone for names. The body looked cold and as dead as dead could be. Hobbert picked up a leg of Cummerbund and began dragging him across the room. Most of the pirates ignored him, but one noticed.

“Hey!” the man called. “Where are you taking him?”

Hobbert didn’t look up. “It,” he said.

“What?”

“Where are you taking it. Corpses don’t get genders.”

“Where are you taking it, then?”

“Somewhere else.”

The pirate shrugged off his tapestry and rose to his feet. “Have you taken all of the other corpses?” he asked.

“Yes,” Hobbert said in his wet, grinding voice.

The pirate reached for his cutlass. “Dragging them off to eat them, are you?”

Hobbert chuckled, and several pirates shivered at the sound. Others were glancing up at the commotion, but most hadn’t moved. “What is it with you living people and your obsession with eating?” he asked. “Just because you do it, suddenly everyone has to. What makes you think that I’ve got any sort of working digestive system?”

The pirate shifted from one foot to the other. “Everyone says that the undead consume the flesh of the living,” he said.

“Some do,” Hobbert admitted. “Those are the stupid ones that don’t believe that they’re dead. Their stomachs get full of meat that doesn’t digest, and then they spend the next hundred years walking around far heavier than they need to be.”

“So you do eat them!”

“No. The stupid ones eat.”

“So are you eating them?”

Hobbert rolled the eye that was still moving, and kept walking. The pirate made as if to stop him, but dodged out of the way as the shambling corpse came close to him. The pirate was brave, but wise enough to not touch Hobbert.

“Put the body down!” the man said, and more pirates glanced up from their campfires.

Hobbert ignored him, and kept heading for the door. The pirate danced around to Hobbert’s front and sliced at him with the cutlass. A cut appeared in Hobbert’s face, and a piece of flesh peeled away from the skull with a wet slurping noise.

A wet sigh rattle the inside of Hobbert’s mostly-working lungs. He pulled out a tube of glue, smeared it on the inside of the piece of flesh, and slapped it back into place.

The pirate, who until now was staring in horror, turned and vomited all over the floor. Hobbert shoved past him and out the door, dragging the corpse of Cummberbund with him. He had a lot to do tonight.

Back in the round room with the other corpses, Hobbert deposited Cummerbund’s remains on the floor and eyed the arrangement. Nine bodies in a circle. Nine sacrifices. An auspicious number, perfect for summoning Nordic deities.

But Hobbert didn’t fancy a chat with Odin. He’d never liked ravens, and apparently Odin kept a couple around. He needed one more body.

Hobbert dragged the corpse of Buttercup a little to the left. Then the Spaniard a little back from the centre. He held up his right hand to his face. “Time for you to get out of here,” he said to the mouse affixed to his ring finger.

The mouse squeaked.

“This isn’t your place,” the Dead Private said. “It’s too dangerous, besides.”

The mouse squeaked again.

“No!” Hobbert said. “You go and find a nice barn with not too many owls and cats, and you have a family. I’m not letting you face what I have to.”

The mouse bit him.

Hobbert sighed. “Fine. You can watch, but after I’m done we’re going to have a talk.”

He unfastened the mouse, which scurried across the floor and into a little gap between two stones in the wall. Then Hobbert looked once more at the circle of corpses, walked around to the empty space, and lay down in it.

The ten dead. Ten cold and rotting, death deep in their bones. Grumbleton was freshly dead, and life still crawled in his fading body heat. He wasn’t fit for this.

From where he lay in the circle of the dead, Hobbert began to chant.

“Ten who lie, ten who sleep, ten who never wake,” he intoned.

“We who lie, we who sleep, we who never wake.” His words echoed in the cold stone chamber.

“Death stalks these halls, death stalks these fields, death stalks these lands.” The shadows grew a little darker.

“One who calls, one who ferries, one who ushers in the night.”

“Eighteenth of five, the darkness between stars, the silence between heartbeats.”

“I call to thee, I whisper in your ear, I reach out to the endless dark.”

Thrice I name thee! Three times I call to thee! Thrice I ask for thy—” Hobbert paused. He could never remember the last one. The darkness began to boil and froth, and he felt a heavy blanket of shadow settle over the castle. How did the chant go again?

The mouse squeaked from its hiding place.

“Presence!” Hobbert shouted, and the darkness swirled back into order.

“Thanatos!” Hobbert called, his words echoing far more than they should have. “Azrael! Kali! Thrice I name thee!”

The darkness fell still, like a roiling hurricane suddenly becoming a quiet pond. Hobbert had no breath to hold, but he still found himself compelled to do so.

A man stood in the circle of corpses.

He did not appear there. It was simply that he always had been there, but only now did one notice him. He was young and pale with artfully messy black hair and wore a slim business suit, all in lustreless blacks that were no lighter nor darker than each other, but all seemed distinct and complementary.

He cast his gaze around the chamber, as if expecting someone.

“Er,” he said, the normalcy of his voice more surprising than if it had rumbled with the power of an earthquake. “Is anyone there?”

Hobbert rose silently behind the young man from his place in the circle of corpses.

“Yes,” he said in a grinding tone. The young man turned, and Hobbert punched Death in the face.

---------------------------RP---------------------------

Well, that was fun to write! I haven't done much RP lately, so I'm catching up. The second instalment of Hobbert's nighttime adventure will come in a bit.

Not much to say just yet on the lynch. I stand by my vote, and also believe that Rand was the most valuable to get rid of, because how he flips could tell us a lot.

Pinch-hitters and inactives, come on in! Offer discussion or reactions! What are your thoughts so far? How do you think Rand will flip?

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Mysterious mystery indeed.  Hmm.

Oh, and Steel, I love that your "mostly dead" mechanism is lessening the problems with missing votes (and as someone who's seen the GM side, I don't blame you at all, so easy to miss things when it gets crazy).  Easier to fix the mistakes before it affects the game!

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Sorry I didn't vote. Been really busy in real life, I'll probably be busy until Tuesday.

Yeah, I'm hoping Rand's evil, buuut, as I mentioned in my post yesterday I think it's too simple. I think we should look closer at Straw and Snipexe, they're my strongest suspicions right now. People want to throw out some analysis on them for me to read when I get back?

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3 hours ago, Drake Marshall said:

Oops... I am getting the distinct impression that Randuir is going to flip innocent. Irreproachable. Inculpable.

Hopefully I am mistaken. Misinformed. Misapprehending.

Would you care to explain, expound, or elaborate? Given the nature of your vote, I am confused, bamboozled, and baffled by the suddenness of this.

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36 minutes ago, Mr Doctor said:

Would you care to explain, expound, or elaborate? Given the nature of your vote, I am confused, bamboozled, and baffled by the suddenness of this.

Mostly instinct, from the tone of the writeup and the description of Randuir dying. Deceasing. Done for.

Reading too far into that sort of thing is generally a bad idea, and I'm certainly not trying to, but my gut is saying Randuir will flip as village. Virtuous. Veracious.

Edited by Drake Marshall
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Alright, I'm going through the cycles to see what I can glean from the posts and votes. Here's what I've gotten so far:

1. Though I'm not a fan of Walin's choice to abstain from voting, I'm inclined to shift my read on him back to neutral. Bort (now a confirmed elim) voted on Walin during D1 at a time that easily could have placed Walin up for lynch. It was before the Bugsy-Araris-Elenion battle began and was the second vote on Walin, so I doubt it would have been a bussing or distancing vote. Though Bort did say he was tired and hadn't had the chance to read, I find it unlikely he hadn't checked to see who was on his team.

2. Have we ever confirmed how many members were in the elim team? Looking back at their win-con, they don't have to kill all of village, just outnumber village.

Quote

The Princes Men have to outnumber the village, so no one can tell the truth, and Gilder can once again be framed for the death of Buttercup!

If there were five (which I'm thinking is probable considering the original game post stated people were sent out in groups of five), three are left. There are 17 living or mostly-dead players, minus at least three elim and one neutral (Max), leaves us with 13 village with only the Giant remaining as an active Village role. If Randuir is village, that leaves the count 12-3. I'm not great with LyLo math (or, you know, math in general), so I'll leave it there.

3. On the subject of the Giant, @Steeldancer, they won't even go mostly dead during a lynch, correct? If that's the case, I hope we don't end up accidentally lynching the Giant. It would immediately give away their role and make them a big target for elim kill. Since it would take two pills to revive him, it would need to be a coordinated effort from Max and those he's sent pills to in order to save him.

That's going to have to be it for now. There are a lot of posts to go through for me to fully catch up, but I'll try to get there before the end of the next day cycle.

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Hmmmm. Well, we should hope for Randuir to flip elim, but considering the conflict on the issue, I think we’ll also be able to narrow down a list of Miracle Max suspects.

Max wouldn’t refuse to revive someone he thought was a villager, would he? I dunno; maybe they follow the town’s view regardless. So this probably isn’t the best indicator, but it’s better than claims.

I’ll abstain from voting today, considering the fact that it is not even a Day phase.

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