DrakeMarshall

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DrakeMarshall last won the day on February 28 2018

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  1. Commonwealth Stadium - Twenty Six Minutes Before Detonation Alder gazed upon Calamity. The bloodstained light had come out early, peeking beyond the fog-shrouded horizon. Foreboding, right before the largest congregation of epics Edmonton had known was to come about. Jacklyn approached the stadium warily, and he followed. A triad of armed and armored sentries held them up. Alder knew of the leader: Captain Fraser from the ninth unit. One of the ones who actually gave a damnation about helping most people, not a given in this outfit. “Alder Moran, reporting in. And this’s Jacklyn. She’s a guest of Epoch right now.” He made to produce the papers showing this to be true, but they just tiredly waved him along without a further word. He felt a twinge of sympathy for them; Calamity knew it was a rough job, playing the receptionist for a nonstop parade of arrogant and unstable demigods. He pressed onwards into the stadium, claiming a seat on the fringes, next to Jacklyn. She was holding up well, all things considered, despite Alder being crem at first-aid. “...death has left a rather large slice of the city untended. I propose we divide it amongst ourselves. Negotiate who gets what pieces...” Meeting was started, and that was definitely his boss talking. When he addressed his troops personally, Epoch liked to talk about “staking a claim”, which was a polite way of saying ERA was ruthlessly expansionist. Once he got started on that particular topic, it would be a while. The man hardly needed timey powers to drag something out. He tuned out the meeting, gawking at the crowd of Edmonton’s most powerful. They were an outlandish bunch, it had to be said. In Alder’s humble opinion, being surrounded by people who were too frightened to give offense didn’t exactly work wonders for your fashion sense. Some were bedecked in bright costumes, in one case so colorful it physically pained Alder to look at under his increasingly tunneled vision. Folks from ERA learned to tune out the tunnel vision, as a rule. Just meant Epoch was doing his thing, in this case compressing the meeting to the span of a few minutes on the outside world. Beyond the throng of rulers, there were the people on the outskirts. Most of them seated far apart from each other, most of them looking vaguely out of place. People like him, people who had a duty to one of the epics in the center or were roped into the meeting one way or another, but they weren’t participants. Some well-dressed servants. A number of enforcers, most of whom bore the ERA insignia. And a pair of dead black eyes fixated on Jacklyn, belonging to a tall and heavily built man with dirty blond hair and a black trenchcoat who leaned up against the back wall of the stadium. Aw, sparks. The man approached, shouldering his way past a pair of attendants that were intently focused on the meeting below. “It’s Quietus,” Alder murmured to Jacklyn. “It’s me,” Quietus agreed from behind them. Sparking speedsters, Alder cursed feelingly. Jacklyn’s release had come down from higher up the chain of command than even Quietus, so they should be safe. But safety was relative, when it came to the terminally insane and powerful. “Epoch said I was free to go,” Jacklyn spoke up, sounding much calmer than Alder felt. “That’s right. Free to go the hell away. You were banished from ERA grounds!” The last part carried. Epoch had apparently reached a pause in his discourse, and quite a few eyes were trained on the three of them. “And what do you know, but the grounds of this meeting are a recent acquisition,” Quietus grinned nastily. “Which you are trespassing on.” “Enough,” Epoch’s voice boomed from the jumbotron, cutting short Alder’s reply. “She is not to be harmed.” “Are you saying you no longer wish to keep the borders of ERA secure?” Quietus inquired in a deadly smooth voice. “I am merely following my orders.” “A technicality. This location was annexed not five minutes ago,” Epoch rejoined. He turned pensive eyes towards Jacklyn. “Although, given your particular… Propensities, I would still thank you to leave this meeting. You have my full protection to do so.” “Sounds good, boss,” Quietus drawled. “I’ll just ‘escort’ her out, then. Safely, of course. I promise. You can leave it to me.” “Somehow, I don’t trust you.” “You have my word,” Quietus deadpanned. Epoch made a sound of amusement. “I will treat her as family,” Quietus tried. “Do I even want to know what you did to your family?” Quietus grinned savagely in answer. “Look, this really isn’t the time for this crem,” Epoch’s tone hardened. “You stay out of this. Completely and permanently. I trust I won’t need to repeat myself.” “Or what? I’m being good right now. You’re not untouchable like you used to be.” Epoch laughed, loud and reverberating. “Nobody’s untouchable. Especially not you if you want to do this right now.” “So I take it you don’t care if I tell all these good people that you’re lying to them?” Quietus snarled. “Hey chumps, Epoch’s stringing out the meeting so he can try to annex the city.” Epoch sighed. “So I am. And you brought this down on your own head. Enforcers, execute him. His weakness is--” Quietus shot the speaker system. Chaos erupted. . . . It was a shame the flying brick had used up all his grenades. Quietus moved behind cover with powers-fueled ease as the tide of lead swept over where he had been standing. He knifed whatshisname the enforcer standing next to Jacklyn on the way out for good measure. Back to the wall, he got out a small rag and started wiping the blood free of the blade. “You mentioned you’ve had a fair few masters before,” he said conversationally. “Is this the part where you try to kill me?” Quietus finally spared a glance for the scar-ridden epic who happened to be sharing his cover, and winked. “It’s a bad habit, you know, to hesitate. We’re surrounded by armed soldiers and yet something in them holds back. Cringing behind fragile defenses, clutching tightly insignificant weapons, praying the next guy will charge out first. It’s the same all our kind. The normals always outnumbered us, they could always kill us off if they were willing to pay the heavy price. Fear, in the end, is how every epic stays alive.” He slid his knife back into its sheath. “And yet you haven’t acted. I’m flattered. Am I to presume you really do wish to serve, or do you believe you’re biding your time? You won’t get an opportunity like this again. You may act now, or become mine utterly. No takebacks.” He eyed Red slyly. “Of course, serving me does have its benefits. I prepared a little present, just for you. To show how much I care. You wouldn’t have known Vitriol, but you could say that the gift comes courtesy of him.” Quietus held out a bracelet. It was a bulky and uncomfortable thing, fashioned from welded together bits of metal that intentionally pierced the wearer’s skin. The job had been rushed, but Karabiner had assured him that he could derive working technology from a live subject a good deal faster than what he could do with a sample gathered from a dead epic. Time to find out if it actually worked, he mused. He doubted it would be painless, if it did. “So what’ll it be? I’m gonna teach these sheep why it is they fear us. Wanna come with?” . . . If Alder made it out alive today he’d count it a win. The exits were choked with other maples and maybe even some epics, intent on fleeing the unfolding melee. He’d been separated from Jacklyn at some point. If not for the stranger who had taken pity on him, who was now helping him navigate the crowds, the knife wound running from Alder’s thigh to abdomen would probably have seen him trampled. His savior had introduced himself as Nathaniel. “Thank you,” he got out over the general noise and chaos. “I’m Alder.” They plodded along at an aggravatingly slow pace, but he was nearly out. Everything about this meeting had been a bad idea. “Going somewhere?” a rough voice called out to him. Speak of the devil. Alder froze, then forced himself to relax. Quietus didn’t respond well to weakness. Instead he raised his rifle and pointed it at Quietus. “Don’t you have bigger things to worry about right now?” “Nah.” Quietus grinned, advancing. Everything else went still. The noise of the crowd died around them, and it became harder to move or even breathe. Alder grimaced and squeezed the trigger. One, two, three shots went off before Quietus ripped the weapon from his grasp and smashed him over the head with it hard enough to make Alder see stars. “End of the road, kid.” The barrel of his own gun pointed back at him. Alder gazed upon Calamity. Calamity gazed back. He was aware of being seen, beyond words or description, and the offer implicit in it. The power was there. All he had to do was reach for it. And how could he not? Is this what it feels like to become epic? He grasped at the still nebulous potential, and it responded. His awareness expanded in a kaleidoscope of revelations, the world painted in new colors, and Alder instinctively pushed outwards against those colors to do… Something. Something broke. Nathaniel’s offered arm of support burned like lightning against his skin. Calamity’s baleful light burned his eyes, somehow mocking. The offered power filled him up like a firehose funneled into a small water balloon. The world shattered. . . . Epoch’s vision suddenly cut out, and he found himself sitting in his favorite plush armchair in a cold sweat. The skirmish had been unfolding acceptably well, which is to say it was doing a beautiful job of keeping everybody distracted while Epoch expanded his borders. But something had interrupted his viewing. He tried to refocus back on the stadium to no avail. He had never known his farsight to just fail like that, not in decades, and it felt vulnerable to be suddenly without it. Vulnerable was unacceptable at this point in time. It was some kind of explosion that shook the stadium, he was sure of it. He sent for footage of the last moments, tapping his finger impatiently until it arrived. Frame by frame, he took stock of the horrific damage. The explosion was unlike anything he’d seen before, definitely powers-based. It expanded from a point outside the camera’s view, an invisible ripple that chewed up everything it touched, whether flesh or steel, but the spread of destruction was… Uneven. There might yet be survivors. He noted with grim satisfaction the presence of a dismembered arm clothed in Quietus’ uniform. The feed froze as it caught up to the present. The explosion was still creeping forwards in there, slowed to about a thousandth of the speed relative to the outside world. With dismay, he realized that it might yet escape the time bubble and desolate the surrounding city. It was an epic. Had to be. An almost obscenely powerful one, with hostile designs towards Edmonton. With any luck at all, the threat would be stuck in the meeting time bubble. He could prepare, just like he would have prepared for the inevitable escape of the other epics in his “meeting”. But one didn’t play this game as long as he had by banking on luck. It was time to sound the alarms and go on high alert. Either it was a false alarm and his enforcers would get in some extra practice for the Calamity protocols, or the meeting was the spark in a much larger crisis. Epoch figured it was about fifty-fifty.
  2. The Meeting Collaboration by: Winter HH The Young Pyromancer Kidpen Drake Kenod Weirdpersonx VanillaDCocoKing breakingamber Kaitlin stood in the alley, watching the stadium, seeing guards walk around. “This was the place Neverthere told me about, right?” She thought to herself. Nervous, she looked around, trying to find a quiet place to enter the stadium. Spotting a smaller side entrance, she quickly started moving towards it. “Halt!” the guard called out. It’s not like they actually have to stop though. “Do you have any permit or ticket?” Kaitlin continued walking towards them. “We’re Epics, gods,” she could hear Marian say in her head. “We rule the mortals. They fear us. Show them, always.” Amethyst nodded to herself. She threw back her hoody, showing her face, giving the guard full view of the crystals embedded in her face. Walking closer to the guard, she summoned a small spike above her hand, letting it twirl about. “Well,” She said, smirking. “Is this enough of a ticket for you?” The guard took a step back, his eyes trailing the spike. He set his jaw, “Ma’am, I must request that you show some form of pass. The Lord Epoch does not want just anyone arriving to the meeting.” Standing tall, he met her gaze. Amethyst considered her options. Kill him? It would get rid of this nuisance, but she was supposed to meet with other epics, according to Neverthere. Starting a fight might make it impossible to enter. That made her think. Neverthere. She knew about this meeting. Wouldn’t it mean she had gotten a pass? Would she mind her name being used? Amethyst decided to risk it. “Neverthere send me in her place, since she felt this meeting wasn’t important enough for her. Is that enough for you?” Neverthere...that’s a big name to toss around. Sparks, it’s not like security is really expected to be that tight. “Sure, sure. Right on through, Miss…? It would be best if you gave your name. For security reasons.” Right, slontze. She’ll buy that. She looked at him. “Amethyst,” she said, and walked past him. Viktor sat in a seat in the audience of the stadium. He had arrived quickly, of course. The time corridor had certainly helped get the others there. Transporting everyone was always a pain, but they had managed to get inside before security arrived. Not that getting past ERA wouldn’t have been laughably easy, even without the ability to turn invisible, but things were neater this way. The person behind him shifted uncomfortably in their seat. Their name was… Michael, or was it Gregory? The illusion masking Viktor’s presence was being maintained by him. Whatever the maple’s name was, the man was clearly uncomfortable. After all, what noncombatant wouldn’t be? They were going all out on this one. Even Blank was here. Viktor’s eyes flicked to where he knew the others were setting up. It was impossible to tell that anyone was there, even to his enhanced senses. Blank was one of the few whose skills Viktor respected. The illusionist had mastered the art of memorising a place’s appearance, then duplicating it with a shell of light, so that those inside could still see out. The person assigned to Viktor was one of the most talented after Blank, but were still only able to project a static image. Blank made that look like child’s play, though even they couldn’t form a convincing illusion of something they hadn’t seen themselves for long. The skill vampire glanced at his rifle. It was, of course, polished to perfection. It wasn’t the most recent model, but that wasn’t the point. Viktor knew exactly how much recoil the gun would provide, exactly how far you had to pull the trigger to fire, and exactly how the shape of the barrel affected the trajectory of the shot. He could therefore compensate for these factors, making him a near-perfect marksman. The rifle was also fitted with a customized muffler, with settings that could change what type of gunshot was heard, as well as with a resonator that made it near-impossible to make out where the shot had come from. This was much more useful than it seemed. Viktor knew that the specific qualities of his muffler might prove invaluable tonight. Casting another glance over the stadium, Viktor noticed a man approaching the group of five that had arrived around the same time as them. Invisible eyes swept over him, judging and quickly categorizing his appearance as that of Phytomagnet, one of Epoch’s overseers. The man was in charge of farming, though he mostly sat back and enjoyed the fruits of the labour of others. The whole organization reeked of corruption and exploitation, the ones in charge not protecting and guiding those who supported them, as was intended. No, these lords feasted upon misery and toil, upon sweat and blood, and sat placid in their thrones, smothering countless others under the weight of their gluttony. Rulers were permitted decadence, true, but to give nothing in return was- Viktor shook his head, dislodging his train of thought. He was on guard duty. Watching and waiting for trouble to bare its fangs. That was his role, and he was content to be patient. For now. Armaggeddon walked up to the stadium, his bodyguards trailing behind him. This was an exciting opportunity for him. It seems that the vast majority of big powers here have the intent of getting a piece of Edmonton, but he had other goals. That bug epic would soon feel the full wrath of Armageddon’s armies, and perhaps those of some others as well, depending on how it goes. Smiling at the thought, he took his place among the stands, prepared to offer his services to whoever would be willing to offer theirs. Stuff went down. Later, Kokichi was in the stadium itself. Jade and Nathan were there too, probably. Lee might’ve been there yet. He might not have been. If there was any sort of camera angle, it totally would’ve been focused in a way to make it impossible to tell if/where they were. But there were a bunch of other people who were definitely there. There was a guy with a group of bodyguards around him. He was kinda smug and glared at people all rudelike. Kokichi leaned to the side of their seat, resting their head on top of the armrest thingy mabobber. That was called armrest, right? How was arm rest even spelled? Anyway, they were probably there with Nathan and Jade at the very least. The stadium. What Taya had mentioned. Though he had never personally been to Edmonton, even before Calamity, all it had taken was a quick and quiet call with the Circle and the stadium’s location was now highlighted on the dashboard’s screen. According to Taya, Nate had known the stadium was where Kokichi had been teleported by Jade and Nathan. More than a little suspicious, Liam thought. Then why wasn’t Nate leading? He glanced at the side mirror at the red car tailing him. Perhaps Nate wanted the comfort of a big bulletproof shield between him and any danger they might encounter. That made sense to Liam. It wasn’t terribly long before the Commonwealth stadium could be seen peeking over the trees. He heard Taya stirring in the backseat as they approached. He scanned the vacant parking lot. A terrible place to park. Instead, Liam pulled the van behind a house across the street and parked. With a tap, he locked the dash controls and activated Parallax mode. He glanced back at Taya as he grabbed the shotgun. “We’ve arrived. You can stay here if you’d like--don’t bleed all over the place--but I’m leaving.” Taya slowly sat up, barely processing what ‘Moose’ had just said. She was barely conscious, but she tried to stand up anyway. She half expected to simply slump down again, and she did. While her wound wasn’t necessarily life-threatening, it certainly wasn’t helping her accomplish anything. Taya muttered something about meese, then slightly more clearly said, ‘If you don’t mind, I’ll just… stay here. Sorry about the mess.`` Unconsciousness overtook her. Quietus brushed past the guards and into the stadium, hovering on the perimeter and waiting for things to kick off. An epic he didn’t recognize had the poor judgement to approach him and try to make conversation. Quietus froze him out with his power, inspecting the blank jumbotron display with mild interest while the man flapped his mouth without any sound coming out, then retreated when the wave of vertigo got to him. It should be starting very soon. “Welcome.” Epoch’s face appeared on the jumbotron, scanning the crowd of epics. “Thanks for responding so promptly to my summons. I apologize for my own tardiness… It doesn’t usually happen.” Summons, not invitation. By word choice, Epoch was claiming superiority. “First, I now swear to protect to the best of my ability and take no action whatsoever against any attendant of this meeting for its duration, except in the case of self-defense.” Several of the epics on the fringes of the meeting began to look expectantly at Justice. The promise-keeping epic. The ability to punish liars made her famous in some circles. Justice acknowledged the oath with a nod, and some of the tension went out of the gathering. “Now that that’s over with, we have a lot to talk about. As you probably already know, we are gathered in the same site where less than a week ago, the most powerful epic in the city was found to be murdered. In the wake of her death, we are left with a few question marks to deal with, which is part of why I called you all here. I don’t think I’m the only one who’s curious about this, so I will start by opening up the floor for anybody to come forward with any information regarding the circumstances of Doubletake’s demise.” Steering the conversation. Breaking down trust. Opening the door to interruptions, while setting it up to make anyone who tried to change the subject look like they were hiding something. Lord Kelvin stepped through the sizzling hole in the chain link fence and onto the stadium parking lot. A rumbling sound emanated from the stadium speakers, but far enough away that only the jumbled bass tones could be heard. So, there really is something going on here, he thought. Behind him, Arachnerd stepped around the pooling metal with caution. The silence dragged on. Quietus noticed a burst of radiated heat off in the distance and decided not to investigate. Epoch waited for an uncomfortably long time before speaking up. “In that case, I will also ask if anybody knows anything about the darkness that blanketed the city earlier today.” Again, silence. “I see. Some of us have secrets to hold on to, then.” Epoch frowned at the gathering. “Next order of business, Doubletake’s death has left a rather large slice of the city untended. I propose we divide it amongst ourselves. Negotiate who gets what pieces. I am staking a claim to the stadium and surrounding area as my piece, for the purposes of future gatherings.” Ugh. Pointless posturing. Nicroburst hated pointless posturing. He knew that no matter what was ‘decided’ at this meeting, various Epics would still make plays for various areas. “Dibs on the donut place!” Kokichi piped up, having absolutely no clue what the context was. They’d never stuck around in one place for long enough to actually take control of anything and probably wouldn’t, but hey, if they were just offering up stuff on the free, they’d take it. Everyone turned to look at them, as they were suddenly the brightest and most visible person in the room. Someone facepalmed. Kelvin peeked around the corner, scanning the vacant concession stands. A guard stood way down the hall, but he didn’t seem to be much of a threat. He only had an assault rifle. Kelvin glanced the other way. No one. He snuck across to the opposite wall and checked around again. Much to his relief, the guard hadn’t noticed the clacking of his DIY crutch on the concrete. The stands were just to his right, so he poked his head around. The stadium was empty save for a gathering in the middle of the field. A dozen or so people, it looked like. The jumbotrons around the stands only showed a person’s face. As Kelvin scanned the rest of the stadium, he spotted about 20 armed guards, scattered around. He ducked back into the hall. This must be the conference, Kelvin realized. Arachnerd was right. A twisting ball of emotion coiled in his gut. So many Epics… He was scared, excited, awed… mostly scared. No. He thought. I can’t be bullied by these Epics. I’m an Epic too. With that thought, Kelvin drew the heat from the air, felt that rush. The tips of his fingers steamed. Newly confident, Lord Kelvin walked down into the stands. “Dibs on the donut place!” the Epic of indeterminate gender shouted out after a pause, drawing the attention of everyone in the stadium. Nicroburst facepalmed. Aaand then someone noticed him. Sparks. Phytomagnet knew Epoch’s plan for the unclaimed sector, but that infuriating epic piping up about a donut shop? That was unexpected--though now that he knew the epic a bit better, it wasn’t really that surprising. Kaitlin listened to the conversation. It seemed a lot had happened in the city, more than she had thought. Dividing territories. She wondered why they even talked about that. Why didn’t they just take it? That was what Epics did right? If they wanted something, they took it, if anyone got in the way, get rid of them. The strongest ruled, and those weaker served them. At that point one Epic spoke up, claiming the donut shop. Kaitlin’s train of thought paused, face blank, trying to figure out what was going on. Nobody was answering, and Epoch was working up the courage to just claim the lot, when somebody interrupted. An obscenely colorful figure, claiming a donut shop. What? Just, what. He blinked, at loss for words. “Um. Okay. The donut shop goes to… What was your name?” Wait, which donut shop? Surely there are more than one. Epoch noticed another guest facepalming and suppressed the urge to follow his example. This day just got weirder. It was about to get more weird, he thought to himself as he gave the timeline a metaphysical shove to set things in motion. “Uh…” They looked around and had the brilliant idea to just lie cuz there was a whole bunch of people here, why give them more information than they had to? They looked around for a name and saw some lights so they went, “Bulb! I mean, Bob!” Everyone’s face was skeptical, and they hid their face. “Very well. The donut shop goes to--” Epoch struggled to find a suitable honorific and drew a blank “--Bulb,” he finished lamely. The name was almost definitely fake, but it was none of his concern. “You are from out of town, yes? This touches on another reason for bringing you all here. A chance for newcomers to introduce themselves, and likewise for me to introduce myself to you. First of all, welcome to Edmonton.” He offered a smile and an awkward wave. “The city is experiencing an influx of new powers, both literally and figuratively speaking, and the peace is understandably, er, strained. Makes sense, testing the limits, trying to figure how you fit into all this. I can’t speak for any of my associates, but if any of you happen to be looking for a place to fit in, I’m offering. You came to Edmonton because it’s stable, at least compared to the surrounding cities, and I am a big part of why. So long as you are willing to maintain a minimum of compliance, I am offering a home in the nicest territory to live in outside of government-held lands, and a preferential position in one of the stronger powers that rule the city. It’s not a bad gig.” Epoch shrugged. Hearing those terms, the really powerful and power-hungry epics would probably be less likely to throw it in with ERA. That was on purpose. Having very powerful subordinates was a risk. Kaitlin looked up at that. A place to stay. And that leader didn’t seem that bad, not like some others she had come across. She thought about it and then looked up. Sound self-assured, a voice said in her head. Don’t let them think you’re weak. “What should we do if we are interested in your offer?” She asked of Epoch. “Also, which conditions will be attached to joining?” Epoch fixated on the stranger, taking in a heavy coat and long dark hair framing striking, violet eyes, and smiled. “That depends on what you want from our bargain. If you merely wanted a place to live in peace and provision, I would request that you follow the laws for the most part, and would call upon you in times of crisis to defend what would be our mutual turf. If you desired a more active role, perhaps a territory of your own and underlings to do with as you please, I might ask for more in return.” He eyed her thoughtfully. “I don’t want to presume what it is you want. If you wish to discuss the precise terms, we can do so once this meeting has wrapped up.” “Like with, er… Bulb,” he shot the obnoxiously colored epic a look, “you have me at a disadvantage. I am Epoch, you may have heard of me. And you are?” He glanced at Phyto and Ironwood, putting out the request to any who might supply an answer to his question. “Awesome!” They dabbed, and it was very awesome. Kaitlin stared at the Epic again, wondering if there was something going on here that she had missed. Finally she just nodded at Epoch, remembering what he had said earlier. Meet up with him after the meeting is done, alright. Thankfully, Epoch glanced away. Nicroburst shivered, then attempted to slowly back away. Coming here was a bad idea. He had spotted a hole in the fence, with a figure standing beside it. Probably not a guard, as she didn’t appear to be armed. He would have to make a break for it. Casually shuffling down to the field, Nicroburst turned to the effeminate figure, keeping his voice low. “Sooo... how’s it going?
  3. Good game, all. Faction games are always interesting, and this was a rather well done blend of faction and conventional elim strategy. It came really close to the end, with an outcome which I absolutely did not expect. @Practitioners and in particular @Mist you guys did a really great job of weeding out the Cultists after my death. @The Young Pyromancer you have my thanks for smiling upon our cause And congratulations on ending the game as the last one standing. As to my fellow Jeskeri of a more Cultish persuasion, you fought well. Now for some retrospective about the game setup, because I really can't resist examining a setup like this:
  4. Well, I should have some time in the next couple days. Maybe I can do some of my plans for this. I admit I'm unsure how much interest there is in starting things up again, but it doesn't cost much to try. It is possible that if people see activity resuming in this subforum it will draw in more people. @kenod re: location. I'm fine with sticking with Edmonton or not. What I had in mind was keeping Edmonton as a setting but with some fairly big changes to the city, but whatever people want to do is cool. There are definitely some fun options for new settings. @Ashbringer Biggish. I would love to work other people's characters into things if you have ideas. I will message you.
  5. Uh, yeah. Meant to say I'm pretty sure the Jeskeri would've tried harder to protect you if you were Jeskeri. Not sure why that was missing. Roughly speaking, contribution crusading is when you go out of your way to lynch less active players and keep active ones alive, although there's probably someone around here who's better at explaining it than me.
  6. Alright. I've been skimming a lot, but I think I'm more or less up to speed. @TJ Shade Re: Village losscon. Sure we don't immediately lose after losing majority, I never said we did, but any "village-like" faction whose main strength is sheer numbers is basically screwed once it loses majority. Hence why our strategy still basically needs to be racing to kill an enemy faction before we lose majority. Speaking of which. With three factions and only 21 players, I don't think we have a bunch of leeway with mislynches. There should likely be a greater amount of non-Korathi compared to a regular elimination game, and I kind of don't think I'm seeing enough concern with respect to when we might lose control of our own lynch. With respect to last cycle's lynch, seeing as the tie stuck, I'm gonna soft trust Illwei, I think. I'm pretty sure the Being a somewhat weird faction game, I kinda doubt many Jeskeri would feel a need to strongly participate if the lynch was between two Korathi, which is what I suspect was the case. The Practitioners at least should have a motive to be focusing on a different lynch, and they are who we want to catch. So... Tentatively, I'm looking for either somebody who was around but didn't vote, or somebody who put a vote down but not on one of the main two lynch targets. The behavior that sticks out to me the most is probably Hael's vote. Hopefully setting aside from the fact that I disagreed with lynching Sart D1 and if anything I think the reasons to do so if anything diminished after another cycle, I would argue that most of the other players who were active were casting votes that had a fairly high impact on the lynch outcome. Domi willing, I will be doing a more full post-by-post reading soon. I've been relatively disengaged from the game's discussion so far, and I think it would probably be valid to suspect me for that, tbh, because I do think it probably fits a pattern of a lot of Jeskeri and I might be willing to extend a slight trust read on Kas for looking for those signs. Except that I kind of do think I have legitimate reasons to have been less active, because I had two final projects to do on Tuesday and two non-school projects that needed doing on Wednesday, and this game has 24 hour cycles. Regardless, I anticipate being able to focus on the game a bit more, now. Also, I'm inclined to slightly trust read Matrim just for general activity and participation I've seen from them in the thread. By the same logic, I really don't think this game would be a bad one for contribution crusading. We probably get more out of it than you do most games, because I estimate there's a higher likelihood of seeing teammates defend each other in a faction game, and I also suspect that although it can be easier to find suspicions for more active players that many of the players focusing a lot on the thread are villagers. I think that's everything.
  7. I'm feelin a little behind on all the thread happenings and my brain won't work. But I can at least activate my tally script and get the lay of the land: Vote Tally Ashbringer (4): Elkanah, Illwei, Sart, The Young Pyromancer Illwei (4): Ashbringer, Gears, Matrim's Dice, DrakeMarshall Sart (2): Haelbarde, TJ Shade Matrim's_Dice (2): Kasimir, Young Bard Please tell me if this has mistakes. I don't really feel informed enough to decide which one is more suspicious, but I like ties. Very frequently gives us more to go off of. So Illwei it is. Also it looks like I was ninja'd by Matrim. With respect to your tally, I believe Sart's vote is still on Ashbringer. That's all now I gotta go catch up on the thread during rollover peace out.
  8. Hm, considering the placement of your post, that's a valid point. Kasimir. @Elkanah (Elkanah) consider yourself poked for the time being. Do you think the analysis/strategy is different for catching "Half-Villagers"? The checks and balances in this game are delightfully complicated. One way or another, I am expecting the late game to be rather interesting. There are just so many possibilities But as far as I can tell, I think not voting does put us at a rather significant disadvantage: The Jeskeri lynch will kill only Jeskeri. The Cultist kill will target more Korathi to compensate. So long as this lasts, Practitioners will only really be killed by the Jeskeri lynch, which will generally be controlled mainly by the Practitioners themselves. Since dead Practitioners is the Korathi win condition, this is not an optimal state of affairs. The Cultists can only really afford to kill Practitioners if several more Korathi are dead than Practitioners (since unless I'm mistaken they need to wipe out the Korathi before the Practitioners in order to win), but since one Jeskeri of some kind will have died every cycle due to the Jeskeri lynch, that can only ever happen if most of the Jeskeri Cultists are dead and the Practitioners are already close to winning. Best-case scenario, the stalemate continues and everybody's number's dwindle, but we still aren't really any better off than we started. Seeing as votes are happening, though, it might be a moot point. There's no voting minimum, and I will confess that I for one do not currently intend to end the cycle without a vote on somebody, it's probably best to proceed as if there's going to be a lynch today.
  9. Now that RP is finished, game talk. The way I see it it's not really too different from a normal elimination game. We pretty much need to root out a smaller and better informed faction before we lose majority. The catch is that the faction that's killing us (Cultists) is not the faction we have to kill (Practitioners). That should definitely change how we do analysis, but I really don't think it changes our overall approach to the game that much. Which leads us into the other topic. Like loads of peeps have already said, I don't think Sart's plan is so great of an idea, and I have every intention of voting. If we don't use our lynch, we're effectively wagering that the Practitioners will all get wiped out on their own before we do, which is a bad wager since neither Practitioners nor Cultists want that to happen. However, I also don't think Jeskeri!Sart would have suggested it. As much as I think the proposal would make us lose, to me it feels more consistent with Sart's attempts to be proactive as a villager at the beginning of a game, and it seems a tad on the nose for a Practitioner to be suggesting it, since I would argue it would benefit the Practitioners moreso than anybody else. So I also kinda oppose lynching Sart. Tbh from the part of my brain that's still in elim-mode from last game, it kinda occurs village!Sart making a suggestion with backlash would provide a pretty good pretext for a mislynch. Kasimir @Kasimir, what do you think?
  10. Merryn stirred, throwing off the covers of her bedroll and scrunching them up in the corner of her tent. It was warm, so the sun was probably up. She adjusted her blindfold to make sure it covered her eye sockets before leaving the tent. People were abuzz about something. Figured, considering the find they'd run into last night. Some kinda magic door if the locals were to be trusted. She wanted to believe it could be a way back home, but no, it wasn't practical. Probably just some dusty reliquary. Still, you never knew. Lotta weird magic hereabouts. Holding out her staff, a knotted and whittled piece of driftwood, she felt her way towards the campfire, accepting a bowl of porridge. It was surprisingly good; berries were her favorite. One of her companions appeared to have translated whatever writing was supposedly on the locked door. "I will open, if all ye be faithful." Huh. She wondered if it was real. Merryn didn't hold for any of that "multiple religions" nonsense. Whatever. She licked her bowl of porridge clean and found her way over to the door. "Does anyone wish to clarify what this is all about? It would be a shame to destroy what I've heard is a very pretty-looking door, but if there isn't another way forward couldn't we just knock it down."
  11. It's the circle of murder setup!! I'll play. Sign me up as Merryn, a displaced and very confused steel inquisitor who is down on her luck and has somehow gotten swept up in the Sellish Inquisition. She sorely regrets never taking an interest in learning how allomantic metals are mixed safely back when she had the chance.
  12. Yeah, if I'm being honest I've never been anything other than utterly bad at not triggering people's inner alarm bells when I'm evil. That's kinda why I go with the higher profile options, things where I can hopefully get people to act in a certain way despite their better intuition. It almost didn't work, and Kasimir was quite right to say we were very nearly too overconfident, but hey I do what I can and hope for the best Woulda been interesting to see what would have come next if the game was still happening, though. I'd be dead soon one way or the other, of course, having staked a little too much on the game ending sooner, but I daresay both sides would still have quite a few tricks left up their sleeves.
  13. Wow that was a heck of an ending. Figured it might be one of the writeup characters who was in plain sight, but for some reason I didn't think it could be the narrator Serves me right. The writeups in this game were unreal, and to juggle all the aspects of an SE game whilst consistently producing at least one awesome writeup for each cycle is certainly a feat. Thanks for running this game! I was a bit concerned that an eleventh hour kill from the village might throw a wrench in our plans. I figured I'd be the one to get killed, though, if anything. If one of our kills had also been blocked, it might have turned the tide of the game. @StrikerEZ you very nearly succeeded in making that happen. Very well done. I didn't see it coming at all, either; I thought MysticLotus was the only villager with a kill left. Apparently the dice were particularly bloodthirsty, and both sides ended up with an unexpected number of kills held in reserve. @Mist you also gave me quite a scare a couple of times there. Your reasoning about me giving reads was pretty valid and is a tell I will pay more attention to in the future, although I obviously loudly decried the reasoning as spurious before now I had a minor freak-out for a second when you questioned the timeline of my scan claim, which I hadn't actually screwed up, but for a hot second I thought I had, and I almost said something that would have outed me in response. I hope the living and the dead will forgive my occasional tendency towards irresponsible driving when permitted to have influence over a bandwagon. My eliminator compatriots, you all did a killer job A cracked glass dagger joins my collection of knives from SE. Good game, all.
  14. Zachary Holcomb, acclaimed among fashionable society of Elendel, paid very close attention to appearances. And if one were to look closely at his, they might notice a pair of aluminum cuff links adorning his sleeves, oddly touching his skin, out of place in how expensive they were. If one were to look very closely, they might notice a symbol engraved on each sleeve. On one hand, the symbol of Leras. On the other, the symbol of Ati. The Words of Founding taught that Ruin and Preservation flowed in all things. Two oppositional forces twined together to make the form and substance of the universe. One desired only for security. The other desired only for destruction. Of the teachings handed down from the priests, this was always Zachary’s favorite. It explained so much about this world. Ruin and Preservation flowed in all things, but Ruin colored outside the neat lines of civilization. Humans were supposed to contain more Preservation than Ruin, but Zachary never felt that was true, growing up. The only way to make everybody like him, the only way for a half-noble nobody from the slums of the Seventh Octant to rise up to become one of Elendel’s most respected members of high society, was to bury his Ruin. Bury the uglier impulses that lurked in everyone’s hearts. A piece of his Identity, sheared off and locked away by a rare feruchemical talent, trapped in an aluminum casing. So that he could smile and keep his face towards the sun. But Ruin could not be imprisoned forever. It ate away at it’s confinement with the inevitable promise of breaking free. It boiled over in it’s fragile casing, the metal at his right wrist feeling as if it burned into his skin with every waking moment. To empty the metalmind would be to court disaster, but by now the blasted trinket contained far too much of his Self for Zachary to bear ever parting with it. Maybe it was the stress, but he’d lost control, a few hours back. Blacked out. Woke up in the gardens, dirt and flour staining his clothes, knowing something had gone horribly wrong. When he’d heard the Lord Heron he’d talked to before had been blown to pieces, well, he was pretty sure he knew who did it. And when the other killers had approached Zachary, he didn’t have it in him to refuse their offer. It was the only logical way out. He needed to get away clean with this, and so did they. They would work as a team, in the service of a mysterious benefactor. They would plant rumors and forge evidence, they would work carefully to silence the voices that would tell a different version of events. And now, their labors had nearly come to fruition. It was a blessing in disguise, really, that he had been forced to attend such a dull party in a remote manor in Bilming. Far better to lose control here than back in Elendel. And there was still quite a bit of malice stored up that needed releasing. Maybe later he’d find a way to release it in more controlled conditions, ways that didn’t hurt people, but for now, getting away clean was all that mattered to him. Zachary Holcomb tapped into Ruin.