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Found 13 results

  1. Chullracing was a dangerous sport. As Salas hung low in the sky, and Nalakor gripped his saddle, it was all he could do to stop himself from shaking. He had trained for this, practicing everyday since his brother’s accident. He needed to win this race, needed to use the emerald sphere reward to pay for Valtor’s treatment. He slipped his saddle over Dusty’s shell, before leading the animal over to the starting line. Both had been a gift from King’s Wit, who’d taken a liking to him after he had stolen his flute. He claimed to have stolen them from a top racer, but from what Nalakor could tell, the beast was nothing more than a work animal. That said, he’d formed a bond with Dusty. She had been his only friend since the accident, his only friend since the fire that ripped through Roion’s warcamp, taking his parents and leaving his brother comatose. Dusty had helped him through his grief, and taken him farther than he could have ever imagined. He was in the final for the Grand Warcamp Prix. The last race of the season before the weeping began. He was the only here because of sheer luck more than anything else, hanging on by the skin of his teeth. But, now? He needed to win. He rubbed Dusty’s eyestalks, slipping the animal a stonebud. Around him, the top racers from around the warcamp’s chulls were being carefully rubbed and oiled, as their drivers stood by, talking strategy with their coaches. On the next plateau over, the spectators sat, making bets, or watching just for enjoyment. Despite Chullracing being illegal, it was still one of the most popular forms of entertainment, and betting on, while heresy, only added to the fun. Nalakor hopped up onto Dusty, adjusting the saddle as he did so. He carefully began warming her up, walking her forward and backward, getting her used to both his presence, and the way he nudged with her feet. His lead system was homegrown he knew, nothing a true pro would use, but it may have been the only thing that could give him an edge. For while others were restricted to using one hand to steer, and only leaving one free, Dusty could use both to swing the long pole he lifted from a strap on Dusty’s side. The bat was the reason Chullracing was illegal. While one’s chull was doing the actual running of the race, it was the jockey’s job to take as many of his opponents down as possible. Needless to say, it was not a sport without mortalities, and when everyone was needed to fight in the war, needless harm was seen as a waste. The officials walked out from the spectator plateau, and onto track in proper. They carefully walked the length of the string that bordered the track, making sure it was both up to standards, 1000 paces long, and there was no foul play. As they did so, Nalakor turned to watch his neighboring racers, as they mounted their chulls. One was a young woman seemingly from the Reshi isles. He dropped his gaze and blushed when he realized her safehand wasn’t covered. On his other side was a tall and dark figure in a mask, some of the more prominent racers did such things to hide their identities. His chull was skinny and sharp, less like a chull, and more like the fin of a Skyeel. A whistle sounded, and the twenty-four racers lead their chulls to the starting line. An official walked down, checking to ensure that they were all in fact behind the line. The man, stepped back to the edge of the line, pulling out a simple whistle. He blew once, signalling the racers to ready. The audience drew to hush, eyes watching the main event of the evening. Nalakor felt himself tense in anticipation. In the distance, Salas was making its final descent, a small crescent hanging over the finish line. A long whistle sounded, cutting through the air like a shardblade. Nalakor kicked Dusty into motion, rocking as the chull began to move forward. Around him everyone was doing the same. A bat slammed into his back, knocking the breath out of him, and nearly knocking him from his saddle. He whirled with both his body and his back, and met the eyes of the Reshi woman, even as her pole met his own. He flipped it around trying to do one of the simple patterns he’d taught himself from his father’s spear training. She was too fast, blocking him at everymove, even as her other hand pushed her chull faster. Dusty let out a trumpet responding to his desperate attempts to simply run away from her, even as Nalakor took another hit from a different racer, the sound matching his own. The man was taken down quickly, but by then the woman had taken advantage of Nalakor’s distraction to land a punishing blow. He slipped, feeling himself begin to tumble from the saddle, his leg hanging over space, held on by his arm on Dusty, and his left. Storms it hurt. They were matching the leaders of the pack now, though whether Nalakor would even make it the next 5 paces was yet to be seen. He let out a prayer to the Almighty, begging for strength. The Reshi woman lifted her bat to finish him. And was taken out from behind, the masked figure capitalizing on her distraction. Nalakor wrenched himself up, his arm screaming from the pain, and looked around him. 500 paces to go, and he was. He was in the lead! It was only pure instinct that saved him. The masked figure’s bat was swinging towards his head, and only a flick of his bat saved from a near instant knock out. His arm rang with the blow, and he grunted. The masked figure bat whirled then came into strike again, and again, Nalakor barely blocked it, batting it away, this time using both of his hands. He still winced, but it seemed that both arms could take the impact. In his peripheral vision he could see, 400 paces. The masked man’s chull had caught up to Dusty, and it trumpeted, sounding like the grinding of metal. Dusty hissed in return. The bat came in again, then again and again. Nalakor’s arms were beginning to ache with the sheer stress of blocking the thrice cursed blows. 300 paces. He let out a sob, the two chulls were neck and neck, even as their riders fought. He was squeezing with his legs as hard as possible, wishing there was someway to tell Dusty just to go a little bit faster, but nevertheless the two animals continued to match each other’s pace, seeming to almost to want their jockeys to fight, seeming to want Nalarok to lose. An especially powerful blow rattled his already numb hands, and then another knocked the bat from his hands. It tumbled to the ground and was lost. The race was lost. The audience screamed. Desperation filled Nalarok’s mind as he realized there was only seconds until it was over. Until his brother was dead. In that brief moment, he flashbacked to the night of the fire, when Voriav had saved him, leaping to push him out of the way of a doorway, and hurting himself in the process. And Nalakor knew what he had to do. He leaned right, towards the figure, then leapt directly at him. He seemed to hang in the air forever, time slowing down as he saw the masked figure’s shock. He slammed into the figure with all of his body weight. They never stood a chance. They slipped off of the back of their mount like a bag of lavis grain, dropping their bat to grab the side of the saddle, hanging on with only a hand. Nalakor himself began to lose balance, standing on a chull was nearly impossible when they were walking. Next him, Dusty still ran. Good faithful Dusty. He took a breath, then leapt back to his mount. A hand gripped his ankle pulling him down. The figure had pulled themselves enough to grab him as he leapt. He felt himself swing in the air, hand grasping for something, anything. They felt the saddle strap and clutched them tight. He lay, stretched across the abyss between the two chulls, the figure pulling at his ankle with all their might even as he held on with his. He kicked with his other leg, slamming the foot into the figure’s hand. It hand slipped, and it was enough. Nalakor pulled himself, exhausted. He looked up to check how close they were to the finish line. They crossed. First. The audience roared, and he sagged. He had done. He could save Voriav. He could see his brother again. Brightlord Nalakor smiled as his chosen chull barrelled across the line, earning him one of the largest returns he’d had in a while—all from a shadowed man who still did not identify himself. But his spheres were on the table in front of the finish line, so despite his weakened state Nalakor wasted no time in nodding to the arbiter and sweeping his winnings into his purse. “Sorry, friend, and thank you for playing the game,” he offered the shadowed figure, who had shown no reaction. He did mean it—he got little enough business, having to bribe officials into looking the other way when he did conduct it, and any participants were appreciated in such a violent and bloody sport as this. “Better luck another time.” The man’s lips were drawn in a thin line, dramatised by the light of the red sphere by which Nalakor was seeing, but he nodded and began collecting his things, heading away from the pens. Eyeing the retreating figure, Nalakor backed up himself, pretending to fumble with one of the chull’s straps as he waited for the visitor to fade into darkness. You didn’t survive as long as he did in this sort of business without some underlying mistrust, unfortunately, and the bruises he had would take long enough to heal without his accruing new ones. Nalakor sighed, moving the exhausted beasts back to their pens, to lie down with their other companions who were lowing quietly. Tending to the beasts, in the end, was remarkably simple—not much could be required by normally docile and tempered animals—but it was his only trade, so he kept to it with a vigour which infused even the changing of water and food for the pens with meaning akin to a sacred ritual, a way of giving the ordinary importance. His chulls were perhaps the best cared for in the kingdom, and he intended to keep it that way to keep bringing in the lighteyes who enjoyed such sport. Keeping it that way also involved another precaution. Over the door to the pen, a heavy razor blade, attached to a rope pulled taut, lurked. Hidden behind a design in the ceiling, and further concealed by virtue of nobody having ventured inside his pens except him, it was the perfect security measure—if the rope was placed across the doorway from the inside, an opening of the door would send that blade falling to cleave in two the one who opened it. He armed the trap, yawning already, and went to his mattress in the middle of the pen. He did not often sleep in here, but would tonight—with the spheres he had on hand. a trapped door looked increasingly appealing to guard against intruders, and he doubted he retained the strength to make it back to the warcamps after his drubbing from the masked man. He yawned contentedly, and was asleep in seconds. Nalakor stirred, started out of his sleep by a noise near the wall of the pen. A...hammering? It was lighter than that, he thought, but certainly he had heard the stone being worked at. Someone was trying to enter the pen through the wall! No doubt it was the masked figure, seeking to recover the spheres lost in the race. His body on fire, Nalakor managed to stand, feeling a vague dread as light filtered into the dark pens through a hole in the wall. Around him, chulls snorted, shifting in their sleep, but mostly too dumb to rouse themselves fully. Peering from the curtained corner he was in, Nalakor could see a man’s silhouette block off the light, and enter the building, sword out in the dark of the pens, looking for him. He bit back a scream. There would be only one way to evade him—getting out the door quietly enough and then shouting for help before he was murdered, to apprehend the intruder. He might lose his spheres, but he’d keep his life. Masked by the bleating of chulls, the beasts themselves, and the pitch darkness of the far side of the pens, Nalakor edged along the side of the pen, feeling frantically for the panels of the door. The intruder was now in his corner, searching in vain among his sheets, and Nalakor’s hand grasped the doorknob. A rush of delirium came upon him—he had escaped—and he threw open the door. The sweeping motion would be his last. Even as he opened his mouth to cry for help, Nalakor’s eyes bulged at the sound of a catch being released and a rope suddenly recoiling, losing its taut arrangement; after all his escape plan, he had forgotten to disarm his own trap. The heavy blade above the door fell like thunder, cutting off the last scream of its victim, and Nalakor was no more. There had been a lot of deaths taking place at night recently. That didn’t stop Kay from wandering outside on a whim on this third night since Sebarial was attacked. Precedent was no predictor of future occurrences, after all. The moons were dim, but light was not needed to carry the sound of bellowing chulls through the unight. Kay found herself walking towards the noise. Chulls were usually quiet at night, and so the increased volume was unusual. The cause of the chulls’ alarm was immediately apparent. A clustered mass of the giant crustaceans were entangled at the end of a flat expanse of stone marked off vertically with string on either side. The Almighty had selected one empty-saddled chull to trumpet aggressively and snap out at the other chulls, none of which were sure how to proceed. Confused, the herd, all of which still had riders, shuffled around awkwardly and bellowed questioningly. Furious, the riderless chull charged forwards at an impressive 2 meters per second. This time, the other chull were able to scuttle out of the way as the rogue chull in the direction of a nearby plateau. Kay turned to follow the chull’s trajectory and saw that the spectators did not look concerned at the animal’s behaviour. Kay’s jaw tightened as she saw some of them were exchanging spheres. Racing by itself could be an honourable way to invite the Almighty’s judgement. Attempting to predict the outcome of a race was blasphemy of the highest order. Even the other Devotaries could see that much. Angrily, Kay headed after the chull, easily overtaking the lumbering beast. Her journey to the plateau was interrupted when the enraged chull reached out one of her giant claws and grabbed Kay by the waist. Though surprised, Kay remained calm as the chull led her not to the heretics flaunting their disrespect for the Almighty but to a fresh corpse still bleeding on the ground. Undoubtedly the man, Kay recognised him as Brightlord Nalakor, had been murdered by someone who valued money over the Divine. With far greater care than she had been shown, the chull picked the dead man up with her other claw and began the journey back towards the camp. Kay made no attempt to resist what must be the Almighty’s design as the three of them returned to safety. Striker has been killed! He was a Noble Spy with a half-shard! Drake has posted, and so will not be killed. Rath has been replaced by Young Bard. Day 4 has begun! It will end in approximately 46 hours, on Thursday 21 November at 9 PM EST. Please upvote Snipexe for the thrilling account of Nalakor's last race. (Fifth speaking: Please upvote both Devotary and Snip for coping marvellously after I dropped the ball unexpectedly.) Player List:
  2. The Inquisitor knew that they had no chance at catching the last villagers. The Mistings had harnessed the use of their abilities to their maximum potential, and they would likely deflect the Inquisitor's spikes in the blink of an eye. So, the Inquisitor set out to business, and decided to get some revenge. They remembered the lurch that made their cleverly planned spike attempt crumble to ashes. With a quick and precise slash of the knife, Sari the Lurcher toppled to the ground. "Just as you deserve. For ruining my elaborate and ingenious plans of death, suffering, chaos, and more death," hissed the Inquisitor. --- Day 4 has begun! The turn will end on Friday, September 13, at 12:30 PM PDT. Sart has died! He was a Village Lurcher. Here are the rules. Announcement: Please vote in purple to determine whether to have the game end after today. It looks like the village has everything it needs to win, but if people wish to drag it out or pursue a different plan, now is the time to decide. Player list:
  3. “ let the assassin die.” Senn Conrad’s head swivelled around the basement where Lekal’s men were meeting. Blank stares greeted him for the most part, though a few newer members had slightly widened eyes at the edges from his tone. Good. They should all be quaking in terror for their blunders. He began again. “Do you honestly mean to tell me that you let Elend’s men simply execute the man we specifically hired to dispose of the rogue Mistborn?” His voice rose in intensity and anger. “The one with the best chance of killing the very threat which brought this entire operation down the last time I spearheaded it?” He flared his iron, sending a small deluge of coins and metal figurines hurling at his chest at terminal velocity. Of course, the hard wooden plate on his front easily withstood the objects, and they clattered to the ground in front of him. He picked up a coin, contemplating it for a moment. He then threw it to a surprised crewperson, who made a fumbling catch. “You think I run this operation because of the gold you pay me,” Conrad whispered. “I can get all the gold I wish for. I am part of your group for vengeance against those Mistborn and against the Venture usurper. Let Lekal’s army starve to death and consume itself outside the city! I care not. But I will not allow you all to fail this mission. It is too essential; we are the only ones with the power to neutralise the two great dangers of our time.” The same blank stares greeted him, though the wider eyes were more prevalent now. Conrad grimaced, feeling his anger flare up white-hot within him. Perhaps he would have to do it all himself. “Very well then,” he said. “Expect me back in a few hours.” Burning Iron and Pulling on a heavy metal bar fixed to a ceiling beam, Conrad soared in the air, his practice with Iron making him nearly as effective with movement as a Coinshot or Mistborn. He would seek his own targets tonight. Makail sat slumped over by his intricately constructed, interlocking tower of steel and iron. A true pity that nobody ever came close enough to one of his devious architectural inventions for him to see them work as intended. He supposed that nobody was going to come into the outskirts of Luthadel if they could help it; while high crime rates were a convenient myth, and kept plenty away from Makail’s dwelling, he’d figured that somebody would accost him eventually out of suspicion or treachery. But so far, his peace remained undisturbed. So he drifted back to sleep, not knowing of the two cloaked figures drawing steadily nearer with each dropped coin. Conrad had found the man he was looking for—Cadoxi, apparently a Thug judging by their bulging frame and the callous ease with which they handled their heavy sword. He was appropriate as a bodyguard, Conrad supposed, as he did now, standing protectively over somebody’s sleeping form. Well, it was none of Conrad’s business who the man shielded. It was just his job to kill him. Burning a mere trace of iron, the familiar blue lines cropped up in Conrad’s vision. Most of the metal sources were too heavy to move. It was not the case with the bag of clips Conrad had left directly behind the bodyguard, in a direct line to his current position. He smiled, adjusting his wooden breastplate, then closed his eyes and flared iron. A muted thud was all that announced Cadoxi as he hit the ground, fifteen holes in his torso. Ignoring the muffled cries of the sleeping form, which had just awoken, Conrad laughed as he sprinted away and then took to the air, Pulling on bars of iron to aid his flight. So Steel was the important external physical metal? Nonsense. He would break Luthadel with a rod of solid iron. Zane alighted softly on top of a small stone house, turning off his steel before making a gentle landing on its flattened roof. He looked down at the sleeping form of Makail, a soft smile bathing his face. All too easy, once again. The man expected nothing, and with Vin covering the path of his retreat, it would be a quick and harmless sting. Hopefully this would be another Spider. Flipping a coin between his fingertips, Zane flared his Steel, Pushing it towards the sleeping man. A slight creaking under his feet was all the warning Zane would get as the entire house came crumbling down from underneath his feet. Too shocked for befuddlement, Zane cried out in pain as his body hit the mass of stone bricks and iron bars below; meanwhile, with Zane’s position changed, the coin he shot flew wildly off-course, fading into the misty sky. That had hurt. Zane coughed, and was greeted with a handful of blood. Excellent. What was this contraption he had stumbled into? Seconds ago, it had been a sturdy stone house with metal supports; now, it lay in a heap of rubble. Likely Makail, who was now fled, had somehow designed it to trick Mistborn. Zane groaned. He had to get out of here before Day broke. Burning Steel, being careful to Push only on his coin this time, he shot towards Vin, chants of death circulating in his head as his wracked and injured form took to the skies. Cadmium Compounder was attacked and killed! He was a Elend’s Loyalist Thug 1! Hemalurgic Headshot was attacked, but survived! Day 4 has begun! It will end in 46-47 hours on Monday 27 May at 9 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). There is a lynch today, with no votes required to kill a player. Please remember that PMs are closed at Day. Good luck! Player List:
  4. Shifting Shadows shifted in the shadow Of a shifting and shadowy night The shifting moonlight did cast shadows On a shifty and Shadow-filled Blight As the shadows shifted all around him, Shifting Shadows, shadowed by the shifting Of the wolves who in shifts watched the shadows For shifty Shadowspawn listening, Was shifted from his place by a shadow Which shifting, shadowed forms failed to find And the stain spreading on Shifting Shadows Would have shifted a Shadowspawn’s mind To shift away from the man in the shadows, Whose blood shifted on shadowy ground, Shift towards the triumph of the Shadow Whose shadowed servants were shifting around. Day 4 has begun! It will end in 23 hours’ time at 21:00 EST, or 2 AM GMT, December the 14th. Ark1002 was killed! He was an Emond’s Fielder and Fal Dara Warrior. The Eye has 36 health remaining. The current layer of defence has 1 health remaining, and is the Third Ring. The Blight is currently attacking for 8. A Creeper of the Blight has appeared: Wormwood! It will Send Runner N5 unless stopped. In addition, Poxx is still alive, and will Send Runner on N4 unless stopped. A Creature of Aginor, which has been christened Randuir IsRand, has appeared! It will start attacking people N4 unless stopped. There is a lynch today. Emond’s Fielders message: Please remember that PMs are closed. Also, don’t forget rollover is an hour earlier than it was before. Regarding my profile picture, it’s not a new one—it’s actually one of my older ones, and I was itching to get back to my regular name anyways so I figured I may as well change the picture back. Sorry if I spoiled all the Ookla festivity 1. Steeldancer (Ookla the Positive) as Ookla the Positive, an orphan with a cheery outlook on life. 2. randuir as Evelyn, an Aiel Wise Woman and well-wisher 3. Karnatheon (Ookla the Ring) as Brendan Vallerune, a gleeman totally unrelated to Jeordwyn 4. Cadmium Compounder (Ookla the Duck) as Miumpounder, a cobbler with an abiding hatred of Altarans 5. xinoehp512 (Ookla the Phoenix) as Alkoo, a reclusive Ogier tucked away in encyclopaedias Roleless 6. Amanuensis as Nikel Fain, a man hell-bent on killing his father (totally normal) 7. Droughtbringer as Month-Long Drought, a prickly old noblewoman who only eats dried fruit 8. Rathmaskal as Jeordwyn Dormond, an Illianer gleeman who juggles knives through his enemies 9. Devotary of Spontaneity (Ookla the Heretical) as Rhodin, a countercultural Aiel whose views are about to go mainstreamPerrin Aybara, Emond’s Fielder 10. Young Bard (Ookla the Unprepared) as Jancey, a reluctant soldier who signed up to obey his father’s will 11. Mark IV as Lars, an inquisitive young nobleman 12. Snipexe (Ookla the Sceptical) as Exepins, a scribe who will eventually admit to the superiority of British spellings Hardy Fal Dara Warrior 13. Furamirionind as Keisa, a grizzled veteran of the Borderland Wars, with a scar on his forehead to show for it 14. Hemalurgic Headshot (Ookla of the East) as Skern Mundy, a man from the East with many skills 15. Ark1002 (Ookla the Dragon Reborn) as Shifting Shadows, a shifty, shadowy Wolfbrother Emond’s Fielder; Fal Dara Warrior 16. STINK, a formless thread in the pattern with less than 24 hours to identify himself before the Creator does 17. MetaTerminal (Ookla the Cited) as Elak Dehlin, a merchant with severe paranoia about the One Power Moiraine’s Circle 18. BrightnessRadiant as Fifi 19. Mr Doctor as Antor Vadenfort, a Illianer Warder without an Aes Sedai 20. Sart as Shirley U. Jest, a Cairhienen noblewoman who takes life far too seriously Good luck to all!
  5. Morning Edition 4 The Elendel Daily Newsworthy Content for Every Octant! The 26th of Doxil, 68, Morning Price 2 Clips ‘The Survivor’ Challenged to Duel, Opponent Later Found Dead Late last night, Camon Tonnestor (24) was challenged to a duel by Count Olaf (93). Mr Tonnestor refused the challenge, and attempted to walk away from the scene. The Count, it is reported, did not accept Mr Tonnestor’s refusal, and remained belligerent even when some of his retainers reminded him of his opponent’s relative youth. When Mr Tonnestor continued to leave, the Count declared that he would burn their precious ‘union’ and all that entailed to the ground. Count Olaf then struck his ‘opponent’, who showed remarkable strength of will and did not attack back. The Count drew his sword, declaring that it was ‘obvious that a duel has been declared’, and attempted to disembowel his opponent. His attack was wide off the mark, however, and Mr Tonnestor only received a gash across his stomach instead. Constables arrived at the scene quickly, and restrained Count Olaf. In deference to his age, they considered cautioning and fining him and then letting him go, but further questioning revealed a violent, some might say incendiar, past. While taking Count Olaf into custody, it has been reported that a figure crouching in the rooftops descended upon the police taking him to jail. Constables left the carriage to deal with the miscreant, but in the confusion Count Olaf unlocked the carriage door and fled his custodians. As the assailant was driven off, the constables then turned their focus to finding their missing charge. Count Olaf was found shortly after, floating face-down in the canal, with a dagger embedded in his neck. He was pronounced dead at the scene, another victim of the chaos gripping Elendel this week. Krea Erikeller Commercial Advertisements Personal Advertisements Obituaries Previous Editions Other Headlines This Evening Count Olaf/Fifth Scholar was a Noble! Day 4 has begun! It will end at 7PM GMT on Tuesday 13th November. Avi/Elandera is Influential this Day. Player List
  6. Laksam hated the ashmounts. Every day, no matter the results of the inane discussions the villagers insisted on having , piles of ash fell on the fields of Tathingdwen that he’d just finished cleaning. With Era dead, he had to clean out her garden in addition to all his other duties. He didn’t have time for all this nonsense with the villagers and the Spiked murdering each other when they wouldn’t last the year without fresh crops. Laksam had tried to recruit others to help him in his quest to clear the fields of ash, but they had all refused. “We’re busy,” they had said, or perhaps, “Don’t you know the village has more important things to do?” Fools, every last one of them. What difference did it make if they found and eliminated all the Spiked? At this rate, the village would kill itself off. Laksam participated in the village’s peculiar brand of justice to keep up appearances, no use trying to save the village if he was going to get murdered for it, but in his brief moments of spare time, Laksam began writing letters. Lots and lots of letters, one for each person in the outside world he knew. If the inhabitants of Tathingdwen wouldn’t listen to reason, perhaps the expatriate Terris would. Just in case, Laksam prepared one final letter, more of a poster really. Asking nicely hadn’t worked, explaining the severity of the ash problem had been laughed off, so Laksam decided to try demanding obedience. “Citizens of Tathingdwen:” the poster announced in large letters. “Ising the needing of working of you. Ising of the cleansing of ash. Needing the arriving of you the time of appointing. Ising the giving of brooms.” In smaller letters, Laksam wrote out the name of each surviving resident, along with the times he expected them to show up. Each shift required two people, to limit the effects of attrition on the continuous effort. Satisfied, Laksam left his house, poster in hand, letters in the pockets of his robe. The mist was thick that night. Laksam enjoyed misty nights; he could almost ignore the omnipresent ash at times like these. Years of nights spent outside, just him, the mists, and the ash, had given Laksam an impeccable sense for the village in darkness. He wasted no time walking up to the Synod lodge and nailing his poster to the wall using a mallet he’d borrowed from Era upon her death. This task done, he turned and gazed out to the periphery of the village. The night was still young, and his steelminds were full of speed. He could, potentially, rush out to deliver his letters and return before the villagers realized he was gone. Sweeping ash all day left little time to store speed, but he’d been saving up for years, ever since that day long ago when Izzy had needed an emergency supply of animal crackers to placate her gods. Now, she was gone too. Laksam shook his head wearily. The Spiked were taking everything from him. He would not let them prevent him from fighting his eternal war against the ash. Glancing at his Steelminds, Laksam made his decision. The ash could wait for a few more hours. Laksam tapped speed and took off into the night, letters in tow. As he ran, Laksam remembered how much he enjoyed Steelrunning, especially at night. The cool breeze of the wind blowing across his face. The enveloping presence of the mists, covering up the ugliness of the world without unduly limiting his vision. The blinding agony as he suddenly tripped and smashed his face against the hard ground. Wait, no, that wasn’t right. Laksam struggled to get up and continue his journey, but the intense pain in his head forced him to his knees again. He sat there for a minute, struggling to collect his thoughts, hoping the pain would go away, that it wasn’t permanent. He stood up dizzily just in time to hear a voice behind him say, “Well, looks like we have a runner. Where are you going so late at night, when all the decent folks have gone to sleep?” Laksam turned around groggily, almost falling over in the process. His vision blurred, leaving him unable to identify the newcomer. The swirling mist didn’t help matters. Laksam tried to respond, resorting to the street slang of his youth. “Ising the being of you of decent?” he forced out. “Hmm? I didn’t catch that,” the figure said conversationally pulling something long and sharp out from under his robes. Ah well. We’ll see how long it takes the villagers to find your body.” At this, Laksam, already nervous, began to panic. He tapped speed, attempting to turn and run, but the Spiked was prepared for this. The razor-sharp projectile, hurled at extreme velocities, pierced Laksam from behind even as he began to run. The ash sweeper’s body made it a few more paces before realizing it was dead, finally collapsing a mere ten meters from the shin high steel tripwire that had caused Laksam’s downfall. The Spiked nodded in approval. All that time spend surrounding the village with a ring of steel had paid off. The Spiked walked up to Laksam’s corpse to retrieve the obsidian javelin, pausing at the sound of paper crinkling. Upon finding the first of the letters, the figure’s grin widened. The frantic entreaties for aid would serve as excellent kindling for their writer’s funeral pyre. Ethin Hallil’s drink had been poisoned. It would have been a great travesty, if he hadn’t accidentally nudged it with his elbow as he animatedly retold the death of HanTor, and poured the wine all over his brand new SCUBA gear. The dry cleaning bill was a lot cheaper than a notary and an interment, though, so he gladly paid it once the laundry lady asked why his gear smelled like strychnine. Olaf rose from his seat in the Synod, thoroughly exhausted and befuddled. After its members had called for a clandestine meeting in the night, Olaf had an apprehension that something major was about to take place in the Synod. The meeting had certainly not disappointed. The remaining Synod members had tired of Marne’s calls for moderation. A decisive viote had ousted him from his position as chair of the Synod, reducing him back to an ordinary member. Olaf recalled the thunderstruck look on his new friend’s face as the hands had gone up, one by one, and Marne had been removed from his long-standing position. Olaf himself had been shocked, his faith in the legislative body and his belief in the goodness of the Synod’s errand both in tatters. Removing Marne had not been in their best interests. The man was a competent, capable leader, and his peaceful and nonviolent stances were, in Olaf’s eyes, a mark of the man’s strength. Though he did not take an authoritative stance, and was never the most decisive, Olaf appreciated the compassion within the man, a trait he had always struggled to acquire. In addition, without a leader to guide them, the Synod was aimless and had no clear direction. Despite claims from the Synod that a new leader would be appointed, Olaf knew that a leader of Marne’s caliber did not exist elsewhere in the Synod, and without one, the Synod would drift purposelessly. However, the Terris had been in agreement about one crucial element; Tarin needed to be killed. The orphan had been accused of association with the deceased agents of the Lord Ruler, and enough of the Terris had decided that she warranted removal by Olaf’s assassin. Marne, again shocked, had merely voted present. Olaf voted against the resolution. While he was sympathetic of Marne’s situation, and felt terrible for his friend’s plight, he knew that his assassin should not be used when the Synod was leaderless, and unable to guide themselves to wise decisions. Nevertheless, Olaf had been outvoted again, with the cripple Leidene siding with the younger, ascendant faction that had deposed Marne. So it was that Olaf found himself outside with a purse full of money that was not his, knocking on the door of his Coinshot. He had carefully removed all metal on him, and had filled the purse with paper notes, to minimise the risk of an accidental or careless Steelpush incapacitating or killing him. Trepidatious, Olaf stood on the porch, waiting for his man to emerge. The wind swirled around him, chilling him and shaking the bushes from side to side. Olaf watched the movement of the branches, thinking of warm fires, and therefore did not notice when the front door swung silently outward on oiled hinges, and a cloaked figure in black garb alighted on the steps. Recognising the eye tattooed on Olaf’s ankle, the man did not bother inquiring as to Olaf’s identity, instead moving to take his purse. Raising an eyebrow at the paper currency, the assassin rummaged through the purse, lips mouthing numbers as he counted the sum. When he was done, he whistled softly, appreciative. The Coinshot turned to Olaf with a broad smile on his face. “️️Who?” he asked simply. Olaf answered hesitantly. “Tarin,” he said. “Orphan girl who just moved into Tathingdwen. I’m in thinks she might be a snoop for the Lord Ruler, and we’d rather get her out of the way before we proceed any further.” The half-lie would hopefully placate the man. Olaf would be laughed away if he explained what Hadrian and Marne had done to him in front of his old associates, and so he had learned to keep up pretenses. More importantly, however, he could not compromise the Synod, even if he disagreed with its current direction. Men like this assassin, while they ostensibly served him, would do anything to turn a profit, Olaf knew—he had been among their ranks for the better part of his adulthood. If it meant a few more bills in his pocket, the Coinshot would not hesitate to sell out the Synod to those willing to pay for such information. So Olaf kept a tight lip as the man nodded, a self-satisfied smirk upon his face, and jumped off into the mists after his target. Olaf watched him go, standing on the small veranda in the ash-coated yard. His associate would not fail, though a nagging doubt gnawed at the insides of the conflicted man as he towered over the streets and small buildings, striding towards Marne’s old house, the initial hideout that Olaf had nearly razed. He felt that Tarin was not guilty, that the Synod had adjudicated incorrectly. And to form a different plan, to truly save the Terris, Olaf would need to enlist the aid of his first ally in the Synod, its former leader, if he was to not fail this group that had placed their reliance in him. For the second time that night, even as the unfortunate Tarin was riddled with holes from many coins, Olaf knocked on a door he had not planned to be at, hoping that behind this one lay the answers he sought. Rathmaskal was slaughtered by the Spiked! He was a Village Steel Ferring (Steelrunner)! All credit to Devotary for his death, please go give her upvotes. Cadmium Compounder was attacked, but was protected! Worldhopper from Yolen was assassinated by the Synod! She was a Village Zinc Ferring (Sparker)! Marne was deposed as the leader of the Synod! He was a Moderate Pacifist! Ascendancy over the Synod is now open! As a flavor vote, today you may each cast a vote in purple to elect a new Synod leader, in addition to your regular lynch vote. The person with the most votes gets to lead the Synod. Day 4 has begun! It will end in 48 hours, on Wednesday the 22nd of August at 9 PM EDT. Player List: 1. Rathmaskal as Laksam, an ash sweeper from the Eastern streets Village Steel Ferring 2. Xinoehp512 as Ereheman Tresni, a man with his priorities backwards 3. Steeldancer as Steel, the fastest sculpture of a squid wrought entirely in steel in all of Tathingdwen 4. Randuir as Zihel, a worldhopper looking for his twin brother 5. I think I am here as Itiah VI, a missionary on a mission Village Steel Ferring 6. Bort as Tee Mai, a tailor specialising in offensive clothing 7. Cadmium Compounder as Ethin Hallil, a cadmium Feruchemist and SCUBA diver 8. _Stick_ as Stick, President of the Tathingdwen Tautological Society of Tautology 9. Jondesu as Remart, a man back from vacation armed with vaguely ominous statements 10. Kidpen as HanTor, a lonely Kandra that’s definitely not Spiked, nope Spiked Zinc Ferring 11. Elandera as Era, an old woman who claims to have been alive before the reign of the Lord Ruler Village Pewter Ferring 12. Snipexe as Snip, a fabric cutter in the local quilt shop Village Iron Ferring 13. Worldhopper from Yolen as Tarin, a Sparker with a wonderful, awful idea Village Zinc Ferring 14. Alvron as Izzy Dedyet, who is not dead, feels happy, and thinks she'll go for a walk Village Full Feruchemist 15. Phatterner as Citona Vinid, a seemingly faithful follower of the Lord Ruler 16. Ark1002 as Kardik, a Full Feruchemist 17. Araris Valerian as Valwyn, an honest rug merchant Spiked Pewter Ferring; Rug Merchant 18. Coop772 as Irion, a Full Feruchemist with hidden potential Village Copper Ferring 19. Sart, a stuttering Nameless
  7. Day 4: Disappearing Act The knock on the door woke Waern up in the morning, the pounding breaking its way into his mind and slowly irritating him enough to see who it was. He opened the curtains, and grimaced at the light that flooded into the room. The sun stared down at him from above, cutting a beam through the ashen sky and shining intensely through the glass. Lord Ruler, was it already so late in the day? He shrugged on his clothes, and glared at the door as buttoned his coat. “I’m awake!” he shouted. “Lord Ruler, didn’t you hear me say not to wake me unless it’s urgent? What happened, did someone die?” “No, sir!” Variel said through the door, his voice muffled on the wood. “But well, we’ve been waiting for you to appear for some time now, sir, and I drew the short straw, so I’m here to wake you up.” “Oh are you indeed?” Waern asked, contemplating returning to bed. Well, he was dressed now, so no point trying to ignore the world any longer. “You are my Obligators, and I am not beholden to you. You will wait on my time if I say so, understood?” “Uh… Yes, sir.” “Good,” Waern nodded to himself. “Now, I will take a pleasant, leisurely breakfast before I grace you all with my presence, understood?” He opened the door, and shoved Variel out of his way. They had to remember their place. “Very good, sir,” Variel agreed, bowing swiftly. “Though I should probably remind you that we don’t exactly have much fare to work on. Your breakfast probably won’t be that appetising. Mostly beans and dried food, sir.” Waern chuckled and took a key out of his pocket, dangling it in between his index and ring fingers. “I have the key to the pantry, Variel. While it’s not much better, salted and cured meats are a world away from canned rations.” He flicked his fingers and the key disappeared. He smiled at the surprise on Variel’s face as he failed to follow the movement of the key. “Not bad for an increasingly old and arthritic hand, eh?” “Uh, no, sir,” Variel said, nodding again just to be safe. “Where did you hide that? Armina was... investigating your pockets while you slept. She didn’t find it.” “Do you think I would hide it where anyone could find it?” Waern asked. “Give me some credit. I wouldn’t have bothered hiding the key to the building if I didn’t think you wouldn’t find it. If nothing else, I pride myself on a bit of sleight of hand, and making all sorts of things disappear... It's surprisingly useful in our business. Though admittedly, more for field-work than for paperwork.” Variel smiled a little and made a mental note. Perhaps after this was done, it might be a way to ingratiate himself with the boss here, learning a few coin tricks. "I see, sir. So… I suppose we will see you in the atrium soon.” “Soon enough,” Waern said with a shrug as he walked away. “But by all means, don’t wait for me to start. I intend to take my time this morning.” Day 4 has begun! It will end at 21:00 BST on Friday 20th. There is a Tineye alive, so PMs may be continue to be sent. Players Quick Links:
  8. Day 4: Retribution The deaths of Locke and Aredor came as a complete surprise to the entire contingent. The two artifabrians had worked closely together, and had helped to identify Plato Anderson as a holder of unholy power. That, in turn, had threatened to upset the entire unstable balance of power in the camp, especially after an unknown Alethi had murdered Arbol as well. So when the artifabrians indicated Kintas as a potential murderer, Eshonai decided that she had taken enough. Would the Alethi accuse and bring to trial her entire delegation, simply on grounds of being Parshendi? Stalking to her tent, she opened a chest. Inside were Shardplate and a Shardblade, the last of them possessed by her people. One of her most loyal followers would be given the honor of bearing them. If the Alethi were going to hide their murderous intentions behind the trappings of deliberation, she was going to give her people a chance to defend themselves. As she returned to the camp, she found the camp in turmoil. The bodies of Locke and Aredor were lying in the center of the camp, riddled with decay. Eshonai shivered involuntarily. What could have done this? She hoped it was not more of her people adopting the forms of the gods. They couldn't be that desperate yet. An Alethi body hung from a gibbet as well. Raaman, a guardsman in Dalinar's camp, had been charged with the murder of Arbol. The evidence gathered seemed to indicate an innocent man, however, and Eshonai was certain that more was going on beneath the surface. -------------------------------------- Day 4 has begun! It will end in roughly 48 hours. Remember that there is no Night Cycle - all actions are performed during the Day Turn, along with votes and the lynch. Raaman (Hemalurgic Headshot) was lynched! He was an Alethi Guardsman! Locke (OrlokTsubodai) was killed! He was an Alethi Artifabrian! Aredor (asterion137) was killed! He was an Alethi Artifabrian! Unnamed Character 1 (BrightnessRadiant) was attacked but survived! Max Mercury (The Flash) was attacked but survived! Kyner (Drake Marshall) was attacked but survived! Vote Count: Hemalurgic Headshot (11): BrightnessRadiant, Megasif, A Joe in the Bush, Yitzi2, Jondesu, Drake Marshall, Daniyah, Frozen Mint, Cloudjumper, Alvron, Crimsn-Wolf Jondesu (7): OrlokTsubodai, StrikerEZ, Sami, asterion137, The Flash, Sart, Elbereth, Alethi Player List: Straw @Straw Unnamed Character 1 @BrightnessRadiant Ethelinar @StrikerEZ Zephyras @Megasif Stick @_Stick_ Samar @Sami TBD @A Joe in the Bush Max Mercury @The Flash Rif @Yitzi2 Unnamed Character 4 @Sart Unnamed Character 5 @Crimsn-Wolf Kreshela @Elbereth Parshendi Player List: Kintas @Jondesu Kyner @Drake Marshall Anya @Daniyah Mint @Frozen Mint Corinoc @cloudjumper Petyr and Cranium @Alvron The Dead Plato Anderson (Elenion). Voidbringer Decayform Arbol (Roadwalker). Voidbringer Decayform Locke (OrlokTsubodai). Alethi Artifabrian Aredor (asterion137). Alethi Artifabrian Raaman (Hemalurgic Headshot). Alethi Guardsman
  9. LG21: To Reforge a God Background: Since the last two wars with Odium, the Cosmere has finally had peace. The 16 Shards are now able to turn again to their own pursuits - creation or destruction, as it suits their Intents. But the greatest conflict since the Shattering brews on the horizon. Hoid, the discredited leader of the 17th Shard, is rumored to have returned. The last letter he wrote since he left the Cosmere to parts unknown hinted at his desire to end the rule of the Shards entirely, and reforge that from which they Shattered. The name can be heard floating on the Rosharan highstorms. It curls with the mists in Scadrial. The colors of Nalthis whisper it to the Returned. Adonalsium. Through the length and the breadth of the Cosmere, the message travels, leaving consternation in its wake. The final conflict of the divided Cosmere approaches. The end of the order of uncounted millennia looms. The Shards gather their forces for one last stand. Will they be able to defeat Hoid and end his goal of reforging Adonalsium once and for all? Or will Hoid take his final vengeance on that Coalition? Only one thing is certain. The Cosmere will never be the same again. Factions: Shardic Coalition: For untold millennia, you have supported the rule of order in the Cosmere. Hoid and his interference has brought you only two costly wars, and the insolent fool didn't even have the decency to face his punishment for warmongering. Now, he has returned, and you must stop his plan to bring about the return of Adonalsium at any cost. The Coalition wins after killing all members of the 17th Shard, as well as Odium and Autonomy and their Champion(s)/Agent(s). 17th Shard: You have been brought into Hoid's great plan for the worlds of the Cosmere. He was there when Adonalsium was Shattered, and he intends to be there when the God is reborn. To bring his plan to fruition, you must gather up the Shards from their original holders. Unfortunately, they are not likely to surrender them peacefully. To win, you need to outnumber the members of the Shardic Coalition. (Autonomy, Odium, Survival, and any Champions of Odium/Agents of Autonomy do not count towards either faction for purposes of outnumbering.) In addition, the 17th Shard has a sudden death win condition - if at any time, members of the 17th Shard hold all 10 Unshattered Shards, the game is immediately over and they win. If Cultivation is Shattered, this sudden death win condition is no longer possible. The 17th Shard have a doc to conspire in, and have a Faction kill. In addition, there are three Shards who have separate win conditions. These will be described in the Roles section. Roles: All players may make up to three actions in a turn (spread out over day and night cycles). The following count as actions: using a Shardic action or investment ability, using a minor role ability or Faction kill, investing in another player, passing a Shard to another player, moving to another planet. Voting in the thread does not count as an action. Planets and PMs: There will be 7 worlds available: Scadrial, Roshar, Nalthis, Sel, Taldain, Yolen, and First of the Sun. Each of these worlds will have a PM associated with it. Anyone on that world may use the PM freely. Other than these planet PMs and PMs that may be created by Devotion, no PMs between players are allowed. Order of Actions (Day): Secret Votes Redirect Vote/Action Investment Non-specific Shardic Abilities and Meta-Roles Lynch Order of Actions (Night): Redirect Action/Roleblock/Destroy Planet Investment Conversion Non-specific Shardic Abilities and Meta-Roles Protection and Healing Poison Mastrell Awakener and Analyst scans Attack Actions Worldhopping The game will start Saturday, 5/14/16, at midnight, Mountain Daylight Time. Day Cycles will be 48 hours, Night Cycles will be 24 hours. Future turns will end at midnight, MDT, on the appropriate day. Writeups will be posted as soon as is convenient following that.
  10. The snow and the ash from the nearby and aptly named Ashmount, Tyrian, fell together in a swirling mesh of black and white. It made it even more difficult to see anything at a distance. After only a 15 meters, everything just looked like static on a television screen. But the people of Tyrian Falls didn't need to be able to see to know what was out there. Every year, like the worst alarm clock in history, they knew that another band of Koloss was steadily trudging towards them. And they knew all about the Spiked hiding in their midst, attempting to sabotage their preparations. You'd think that they'd all just leave, but for some strange reason, it seemed that they couldn't; as if they were cursed by some evil, unseen hand. As the snow and ash fell and an impending sense of doom settled onto the shoulders of the fair people of Tyrian Falls, they all stopped whatever they were doing to stand and curse the sky together: "Leave us alone, Metacognition!" Guess what everyone? It's that time of the year again! Three cheers for our second year here on the illustrious 17th Shard and it's been a great year, if I do say so myself. Thank you all for being a part of it and for making these games as amazing as they've been. Our little sub-forum here wouldn't be the same without all of you. So you guys all know what's coming; it's time for our Anniversary Game! Unfortunately, the Admins didn't get back to us in time about the Anonymous Accounts at this point in time, so we're going to see if maybe this time, the village of Tyrian Falls can get a little redemption. If the Spiked wind up winning again, I'm officially calling this village cursed! But before we get to that, I'd like to give you maniacs some updates as to a few things we're changing for our next year here and also some things to look forward to too! First up, with as many people as we have playing anymore and how many awesome people who have stepped up to GM games for us, we're updating the schedule for how and when the games will begin. The new schedule is in effect as of now. So what is the new schedule and how does it differ from our last schedule? I'm glad you asked! Before, the way we staggered games looked something like this: -LG1, QF1 in the middle of LG1, MR1 after QF1 finishes and as LG1 ends. LG2 starts after LG1 ends and the cycle continues. I did a simple graphic for it (not to scale by any means) a long time back that I'll include here: But, with how the subforum has grown, this is what we'll be working with going forward: Instead of setting the MRs and QFs schedules to be based on the LGs, they operate independently. QF1 is followed by MR1, which is followed by QF2 and so on. On the other hand, the LGs would stagger. LG1 would start, run for 5 cycles (this is just a starting number and we will adjust it if that seems like it is too long or too short of a delay) and then LG2 would start and repeat ad infinitum. As I did above, I did a quick visual of what we're looking at: We feel that this will make it so that there's not as long of a wait before someone gets to run their game. Which means we could probably use some more QF GMs, so if anyone has any ideas, feel free to sign up! Due to how this schedule is set up, it means that we won't be able to avoid holidays as much, but I think that will be a minor problem. If you have any questions or comments on the new schedule, please feel free to contact either myself, Wilson, or Gamma! That's the major news. We're discussing on reformatting a few of the threads to use them more effectively and you guys should be on the look out for something we're calling the SEAcropolis in the near future too! I think you guys will like what we have in mind for the future. Now, onto our second Anniversary Game! I'll be posting all the rules and roles and stuff below. Sign ups will last until the evening Dec. 25th. That's right, my Christmas present to all of you is your roles and alignment! This also allows us to circumvent the worst of the holiday distractions as well and leaves us with only a small bump once New Years rolls around, so this is as accessible as we could make it. So without further adieu: AG2: The Return of the Koloss! Oh no! Koloss have begun advancing on your little town, Tyrian Falls! Since The Lord Ruler died, they seem to be acting with a mind of their own. Unfortunately for you, your town is a way point between Fadrex City and Luthadel. That means you have a stockpile of metals, but that's probably why they targeted you in the first place. On the other hand, you have a large collection of metals. You might be able to hold them off, but it seems like someone (or a conspiracy of someones) seems to be undermining your defenses. Somehow, before the Koloss arrive, you have to rid your town of these dissenters; those that are spiked. Until then, you won't be able to mount an effective defense for your town. If you fail, everyone dies, so you better not fail! Factions: Some people within the town have been hiding a few secrets; some of them are Mistings, so you have help in your battle versus the forces of Ruin. Although some of them may be spiked. Why can't anything be easy? Roles: We'll be starting on a Night round (sorry to whomever likely gets killed before they even really get a chance to play!) This is due to the fact that that was how it was before and I think it will give people a chance to establish some RP before the game actually starts (which always helps make the write ups better, IMO). Order of Actions for the Night will be: -Smoker -Seeker -Lurcher -Coinshot/Kills Days will be 48 hours long (ending roughly around 1 AM EST unless this schedule needs to change). Nights will be 24 hours long. No hints will be given in the write ups. Allegiance and Roles will be reveal upon death. That should be about everything! If I missed something that you would like clarified, please, let me know either via PM or here in thread and I'll do my best to answer any questions. Let the games begin and again, thank you all for another great year! Quick Links:
  11. The Empty Throne Part 1: The Barrow Barons With Steelheart dead, the remaining Epics are running amok as they try to wrest control of the city of Newcago from their rivals. You and a group of others have taken refuse inside the now vacant Enforcement Headquarters to wait out the chaos that grips the city. Unfortunately you aren’t the only ones with that idea as some of the former barrow barons have taken it upon themselves to grab control of the HQ and make it their base of operations. Day cycles last 48 hours, night cycles are 24 hours long. Extensions can be requested. Roll over is at 4pm NZDT / 3am GMT / 8pm PDT (I think I got the conversions right.) Write ups will be simple as I am, unfortunately, not as creative as the past GMs. Updated player lists will be posted at the start of each day. Night Action Order: Enforcer/Streetperformer/Illusionist/Neutralizer, Protections, Kills then Scouting. Win Condition: Find and kill the Barrow Barons. Lose Condition: Allow the Barrow Barons to outnumber everyone else. Note: No group can win as long as the Serial Killer is alive. Except for the Serial Killer that is. Barrow Barons have a doc to conspire in as well as a nightly group kill. GM is to be included in all PMs Each day cycle players must send a PM to the GM telling them which room they are to spend the night in. Any who don’t claim a room will be stuck sleeping in the hallways. At the start of each night cycle the GM will PM each player with the names of the other players that are in the same room. The names of those who are in the hallway will be posted in the main thread. You cannot post who you are sharing a room with until the following day cycle. Abilities/roles/PMs can only be used on those in the same room as yourself or those in the hallway. Example: Steelheart is in the Barracks with Frank and Steve. Firefight and Gillian are in the Armoury. Bob is wandering the hallways looking lost. Steelheart can only attack/PM Frank, Steve or Bob. Gillian only has Firefight and Bob for company. Poor Bob has no one to play with unless someone contacts him first. Should both Gillian and Steelheart contact Bob then Bob can pass messages along. However Bob cannot use any abilities on anyone as they aren’t in the same room. Rooms: (Rooms may be added or removed depending on player numbers) Armoury Barracks Mess Hall Officers Lounge Training Room Shooting Range If any wish they can use their night action to search the room they are in. There may or may not be something to find. For example if someone was to search the Officers Lounge they may find a fully/partly charged sidearm which allows a set number of kill attempts or they may find an empty whiskey bottle. Roles: Serial Killer: You are an insane genius. You worked out how to become an epic, all you need to do is kill enough people. After all everyone knows that epics kill indiscriminately, so that must be how they gained their power, right? As such you have two abilities. You can kill once per cycle, day or night, or you may instead stalk up to two people a cycle and find out what roles they have. You must also choose a signature to leave behind as a sign of your kills. i.e. a red rose. Note, if you choose to use your abilities during the day then your vote won’t be counted. Win Condition: Kill everyone. Civilian: You are a normal civilian and have no special abilities however your voice is that of the people. This could be the chance you have been waiting for. Prove yourself to the right people and they will surely reward you. Arms Dealer: Somehow you got caught up in the mob and have found yourself trapped inside the Enforcers HQ. Luckily you still have some of your inventory. Once a night you can give a one shot gun to another for them to use the next night. Enforcer Chief: You can provide protection detail to one player of your choice for one night cycle. (You protect one player from all actions taken both by and against them. Target is not informed that they are protected. Cannot self target. Rich Civilian: You have money, you have influence and you left it all outside. Whoops. However your vote counts double as many still listen to you. Street Performer: You are a master at sleight of hand and misdirection tricks. Once per night cycle you may redirect any action directed against one player to another of your choosing. (You must pm the gm with the name of the target you want protected as well as the target for the redirected actions.) Smoothtalker: You can sell anything. In fact you have already sold Steelhearts skull on numerous occasions. Once a day you may change anyones vote to whatever you want. (Including a no vote) Doctor: You are a trained physician and can provide medical protection to one person for a full cycle. (Once per night cycle you can choose to protect another from any one attack for that night and the following day. Protects from lynching. Cannot self target.) Scout: You are an expert in stealth. Once every night you may spy on another player and discover what actions they take. Sniper: You are a former Enforcement sharpshooter. One kill attempt each night. Invisibility: You are able to turn completely invisible for a limited amount of time. Once per night you can follow a target and find out what actions they take. Precognition: You can see the future. Once per night you may either protect yourself or another from one attack. Matter Disruptor: You can turn any organic matter to dust. One night kill attempt per cycle. Flame body: Your entire body can be turned into living flame, protecting you from attacks. Once every second night cycle you can protect yourself from any and all attacks but must rest during the next cycle. (Invulnerable from all attacks for one night cycle, but cannot protect self again next cycle.) Neutralizer: You can neutralize anyones actions once per night. If no actions are countered this will cancel the targets vote on the following day. Mitosis: You are able to make clones of yourself. You may order your clone to undertake one of the following each cycle. Note: you cannot take the same action in consecutive cycles. Follow a player and learn what actions they take. (Night only) Attempt to kill another player. (Night only) Protect you or another from one attack. (Night only) Distract another so any action or vote they take fails. (Day or night) Strong-arm another’s vote to one of your choosing. (Day only) Illusionist: You can change the appearance of what actions others or yourself take once each night. Example: Player R uses their kill attempt on Player F. The Illusionist can make it look like they protected Player F instead. The action still happens as normal but it won’t show up to any who happen to be spying on Player R at the time. Note: This changes the actions appearance only not the target.
  12. Special Thanks to Ben McSweeney for making these icons and Awesomeness Summoned for making them available online. On the Isle of Nebrask, there was one simple rule: keep the Circle whole. The Circle was a line of chalk, surrounding the island, containing the wild chalklings. If it broke, they could swarm out, and decimate the United Isles of America. On the Western Front, a new group of Rithmatists were gathering. Their mission was simple: if the line washed out, they had to repair it. Their commanding officer, Tammy Kingswright, addressed the group. “We are defending our homeland today. The Circle may be holding today, but it could fall at any moment. A single raindrop could ruin our line, and destroy our way of life. We’re not going to allow that. Come rain or shine, we will protect this country! Now, who’s with me?” Mid-Range Game 3 is now open for sign-ups! I’m looking for around 20 players, but the more the merrier. This game will start a day after Long Game 8 ends. Rules: Setting: You are part of a group of Rithmatists, battling wild chalklings in Nebrask. However, it appears some of your battalion actually support the chalklings, and are secretly trying to sabotage the front lines. General Rules: This game has the day and night combined into one cycle. Players will vote on who to lynch in the thread, while sending the GM (me) their special action in PMs. PMs between players are not allowed in this game. Each Cycle will last 48 hours. Rithmatics: To combat the chalklings, most soldiers (excluding Non-Rithmatists) use Rithmatics. Each day, you may do one of the following. However, you may not repeat the same action two cycles in a row. Line of Forbiddance: You protect yourself for the cycle. As long as this stays up, you can't be killed. Line of Vigor: Cancel a target player's action. Line of Making: You create a chalkling that will spy on a target player. Unfortunately, chalklings are extremely dumb and can only be given extremely basic commands. Chalklings will walk in a straight line and will only return to you if they run into a wall. If a player was using a Line of Warding or Forbiddance, you will be informed that they were protected. Otherwise, nothing will happen. Line of Warding: The camp gains one defense for the cycle. (See below) Advanced Rithmatics: You can substitute one of these for your special action, if you have been taught them. Line of Revocation: Kill a target player, as long as they aren't protected by a Line of Forbiddance. This is only available to Rithmatic Scholars. Line of Silencing: Cancel a target player's vote. Special Roles: The Forgotten: You command the wild chalklings, and you win once you outnumber the good-guys. Every night, instead of using Rithmatics, one of you can kill a target player. You are also immune to Wild Chalkling kills. Of course, you have access to a Google Doc to formulate plans. Non-Rithmatist: You are clearly crazy. You sneaked onto the front-lines without having any powers! However, you have studied Rithmatics extensively, and have learned about Advanced Rithmatics. Once per game, you can give a target Rithmatist access to these powers. Sentry: As long as you stay alive, you passively give the camp 1 defense. See below for details. You are also immune to the Wild Chalkling kill. This role will be added if we have enough players. Artist: Because you can draw them so well, your chalklings are smarter. When you use Lines of Making, you will learn what special action your target did that turn. Defense: Since the camp is on the front-lines, there is always the threat of wild chalklings invading. The power of the chalklings is equal to the number of Forgotten. The camps defense is equal to the number of people making Lines of Warding plus the Sentry bonus. If the power of the chalklings is greater than the defense of the camp, a random player is killed. This kill ignores Lines of Forbiddance. If the camp's defense is equal to, or greater than, the power of the chalklings, the camp doesn't lose a player. Quick Links:
  13. The Simple Rules “Don’t kindle flame, don’t shed the blood of another, don’t run at night.” -The Three Simple Rules The Simple Rules exist for a reason on the world of Threnody. Anybody who breaks these Rules via RP will automatically die at the end of the Cycle. General Rules: Standard Quick Fix Game (QF) Procedure. Fast paced Cycles lasting 24hrs with write-ups including the results of the lynch and any mentionable Actions. As this game is a QF, player activity is not only encouraged, it will be incentivized. As such, inactivity will be penalized, solely due to the speedy nature of the game. This game can run with as little as 12 people, but can also can accommodate for upwards of 20+ players. All players will be only allowed to submit One Action per Cycle. Actions can count as Item-Use, Messaging/Message Interception, distributing rations, or the Convict Kill actionl. The Civilians win if they can find and get rid of all of the Convicts, and the Convicts win if they outnumber the Civilians. Roles/Allignments Civilian: A regular citizen, just at the wrong place at the wrong time. But in the Forests of Hell, it is usually always the wrong place at the wrong time. But living in the Forests means that you aren’t weak, either. You can potentially start with any item. Convict: A member of a group of criminals with a high bounty on your head, you’ve no choice but to leave no survivors wherever you go. One of you will be chosen and notified each Cycle to make a kill (cycling through each member before any repeats are made, and the Gang Leader can also be chosen to make the kill). You can potentially start with any items except for the Murder Hood and the Glowsap. You know all the other Convicts identities, and can communicate with them via Messages. These can be intercepted. Gang Leader: The leader of the Gang of Convicts. All good gangs need a Leader, and you are the perfect man for the job. Nobody has ever seen your face, and therefore don’t know what you look like. You also know how to cover your tracks, so you can’t be Detected by ordinary means. Only death can reveal who you truly are. You can also send One Letter to each of your fellow convicts anytime throughout the game that can’t be intercepted. Any messages after the first one to each of them can be intercepted, however. You can’t start with any Items. The Gang Leader can not be discovered by Glowsap. If investigated, you will appear as a Civilian. They are also eligible to be selected to make the group kill for the night. Game Items*: Some players will start off with certain items, possibly, depending on the number of players and their role. All items will have a limited number of uses to fit into the theme of scarcity of resources in the Forests of Hell, and will not be rechargeable. *For Stats purposes, these Items will count as “Roles” for this game. Fenweed Sap - A minor poison that won’t kill, but will make the victim cloudy headed and dizzy. Will Negate their Action for the Cycle. Will have a limited number of uses. Can only poison one person with one dose per Cycle. The target that gets Poisoned will be informed so, but not who they were poisoned by. Silver Ward: Some players will start out with a set amount of Silver Wards, and these can be used to save Players from Lynches. Each Cycle, you can target someone with a Ward if you still have any, and if that player ends up being lynched, they will be saved instead. It will be mentioned they were saved by in the write-up, but not by who. If you use a Ward on somebody who doesn’t get lynched, the Item will be wasted. Silver Wards are an Active-Use item, not a passive. So you can’t give them to someone to save them from a future lynch. (Think of it like a Lurcher Role but with a limited number of uses, and can only save from lynches). Glowsap: A special sap that glows with a dull violet colored light. This item is used to track people at night and can be used to find the Alignment of a player. (Civilian or Convict). Will give a result of Civilian when used on the Gang Leader. Murder Hood: A tar-lined burlap sack that allows you to put over the head of your victim and bludgeon them to death. Prevents the spilling of blood, thus keeping you safe from Shade retribution. Convicts or the Gang Leader can not start with this item. Rations: This game will introduce the “Rations” mechanic. Rations allow a player to survive throughout the game. You need to eat 2 Rations every Cycle to survive. If you go 1 Cycle without eating enough Rations (2), you will be Hungry. When you are Hungry you can not perform any Actions. If you go another Cycle without eating the proper number of Rations while in the status of Hungry, you will die from from Starvation. Any players who die from Starvation will be mentioned, but nobody who is Hungry will be revealed. Every cycle, all players should make a post and place a vote. ‘No kill’ will not count as a vote. If you vote and post at least once each Cycle, you will receive 3 Rations that Cycle, essentially leaving you with 1 after you eat your allotted Rations for the day. These extra Rations can be saved up. Only posting, or placing a post with only a vote will only net you 2 Rations for that Cycle. You can spend 1 Ration to change your vote after your first initial one each cycle. This can be done any amount of times in one Cycle, spending 1 Ration each time you do so. Rations can also be given by players to other players discreetly, although this still counts as an Action. Messaging: Each Cycle, players can spend 1 ration to send an anonymous letter to be sent to another player. The Ration Cost is a Bribe that you give the Innkeeper to pass along your message. However, any player can also spend 2 Rations to Intercept one Message being sent to a player. (If multiple messages are sent to one player, then one of the Messages is randomly chosen to be Intercepted.) Messages must be limited in size and can not exceed 1,000 characters. If multiple people are attempting to intercept a letter from a person, then the letter(s) will be handed out by chance. The Stack (Order of Actions): Fendweed Sap -> Rations -> Glowsap -> Silver Wards -> Lynch -> Kill Actions (Convict group kill/Murder Hoods) -> Messages ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sign-up write-up: This game will be told through the perspective of the Innkeeper telling a story, and all of you are all the Main Characters! How this tale ends depends entirely on you! Sign-ups will last a week! Quick Links: