Anniversary Game: In the Re-Wake of the Koloss

[Unodus]

Not really sure I planned Rent to be a thief.  A swindler, probably, but not exactly a thief.  But I guess I could see him "borrowing" a few things from people now and then. 

 

(is this the right blue...? :V )

 

Sorry about the confusion, Renegade- I wasn't trying to suggest Rent was a thief- merely that another passerby (perhaps another player? :3 ) stole the bag.

Edited January 1, 2015 by Unodus

[A Joe in the Bush]

When does the game start?

[Metacognition]

Night 1: Ghosts

 

Maill couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of deja vu as he finished locking up his store for the night. As the mists started creeping out, he shivered. He felt as if someone had just walked over his grave. He made his way through the town, passing through the town square, where Rent had staked off a section and was trying to charge people for walking through it. Clancy was there as well, finishing up another story. He couldn’t place it, but he didn’t really trust the storyteller, even though he had never really met him before. Wilson was scurrying about, a stack of letters in hand as she went about her business and the fires from Edgar’s forge glowed as he and Wyra worked through the fading daylight.

 

Everything was exactly as it had always been in Tyrian Falls and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had been here before.

 

He made his way to Dyri- no, that wasn’t right. It was Satrams’ and it was a tavern, not an inn. So why did he think of it that way? And why did he keep expecting someone to barrel through the door with a handful of papers that would contain a bunch of lists?

 

He shook his head and headed to the bar for a drink. It had to be due to the news of the approaching Koloss. That alone would be more than enough to upset anyone.The reports were saying that it was a small band and Teys, captain of the city’s watch, felt that they should be able to hold out against them.

 

So why didn’t Maill feel safe?

 

As he was pondering over his dilemma, a loud crack came from outside, followed by the sound of exploding timber. Everyone looked around surprised for a moment before running for the door.

 

When he finally got outside, it wasn’t difficult to tell what had happened. The barracks were now a huge bonfire and the roof had just given in. People were rushing around, trying to form a water brigade and he heard someone shout that the Watch were still inside the burning building, but Maill couldn’t move.

 

It’s amazing how, in a crisis situation, the mind finds the time to focus on the little details. Like the fact that the door to the barracks and all the windows had been boarded shut. Or how the rope to the well had been cut. Or those figures slipping away from the burning building and into the mists, running away from the fire rather than helping.

 

Just like that, the sinking feeling of dread Maill had been having had a name and now he knew that driving off the Koloss wasn’t going to be as easy as predicted.

 

As the last figure disappeared into the night, Maill whispered once word, “Saboteurs.”

 

___________________________________________

 

Night 1 begins now! This is a little earlier than I would typically like for my schedule, so this night will be 27 hours long, rather than the typical 24, but I was incredibly eager to get started!

 

There’s a player list in the OP and I will update it as the game continues. I’ll be sending out roles now and if you have a power you would like to use this night, just respond in the PM that I sent you with your role. If you do not receive a PM from me, please let me know!

 

There is indeed a Tineye, so PMs are allowed.

I think that covers everything! Good Luck everyone and let the chaos begin!

Edited January 2, 2015 by Metacognition

[Renegade]

Figured I should do some amusing RP before delving into the relatively monotonous analysis.  There are a few references to LG 1 in it, as well.

 

-----

 

Rent grunted at the news.  Saboteurs?  Eh, he didn’t really care, so long as these saboteurs paid the fee for trespassing through the town square.  And the last time he checked, Rent didn’t see any saboteurs pass through the town square.

 

Suddenly, Rent’s eyes widened in realization.  No!  Lord Rulah, no!  If they start killin’ people, who will pay the taxes?  Rent shook his head in disbelief.  After all, the only physicians in town -- Doctor Digits, Nurse Numbers, and PhD 123 -- had all gone on an incredibly inconvenient hiatus, and wouldn’t be back until the next week or so.  Who would be able to save the injured?

 

“This needs to end!” Rent shouted, unnecessarily slamming a fist against the table.  “I will not stand for those… those murderers killin’ my money!  Just like that?  No way.  I’m in.  So who exactly are these miscreants?”

 

“That’s exactly what we’re trying to find out,” someone groaned.  “Have you not been listening?”

 

“Of course I’ve been listening, ya callin’ me deaf?”  Rent frowned.  He searched his thoughts, trying to conjure up an idea.  “I have an idea,” Rent said.  Nobody responded.  “What if… the rest of ya try to figure out who those murderers are, while I go reap the rewards for the lot of ya crossin’ my territory in the meantime.  Sound good?”

 

The tavern was silent.

 

“Well, I guess we’re all in agreement, then!” Rent smiled, getting up and walking to the door.  “The tab’s on the table, Satrams.”

 

“This is a rock!” the barkeep protested, picking up the charred rock that Rent had left on his table.

 

“No it’s not,” Rent said, whirling around towards the stunned patrons of the tavern.  “It’s a tab.”  Smiling fiendishly, he opened the door, still facing the confused crowd, and walked through.

 

...Only to realize that he had ended up in the men’s room, rather than outside.  “Ah, what?  Woops, that’s embarrassing.”  He quickly slipped out of the bathroom, back into the main tavern area.  The patrons looked at him, some in shock, others in complete confusion.

 

“I, uh… I swear, that door led outside a minute ago,” Rent remarked.  “But Lord Rulah, look at the time!  I really should get goin’.”

 

“I don’t think so,” a man near Rent said in a gruff voice.  “If you want to keep your life, I suggest that you stay here and help us solve this mystery.”

 

Rent waved a hand dismissively.  “Bah.  Lives.  I’ve got plenty of ‘em.  Spent a few of them last--”

 

Gruff-voice sprang up and drew a knife.  “You sure about that?” the man asked.

 

Rent blinked and addressed the rest of the patrons.  “Uh, yeah, this guy seems pretty murderous to me.”  Rent gestured to the knife. 

“Just sayin’.  So, we kill him and I can leave, right?  That’s how this works?”

 

“No,” the knife-guy said, but slowly sat back down.

 

“Really, none of ya are gonna stop him?” Rent asked, pouting.  “He points a knife at me and gets away with it?  Lord Rulah, is this a conspiracy?  ‘Cause, I’m totally gonna raise my fee if it is.  Just sayin’.”

 

“Kukri likes his knives,” Satrams said.

 

“Exactly!” Rent exclaimed.  “So he must be a murderer!  Kill ‘im!”

 

“We hired him,” someone else said.  “I doubt he’s a murderer.”

 

“Well… well fine!  Fine!” Rent said, throwing up his hands.  “I guess ya don’t need me messing up yer precious plans.  So I’ll just be goin’, then.”  He jerked a thumb towards the exit.

 

The knife-guy sighed. “You don’t get this, do you?  You’re as much of a suspect as anyone else in here.  That’s why you need to stay.”

 

“Suspect?” Rent said incredulously.  “But… but how?  I’ve nevah done anythin’ wrong!  I charge reasonably high fees!  I have plausible deniability as to my own immorality!  I’m no murderer!”

 

“Sit down!” the knife-guy barked.  “You’re going to talk--”

 

Rent grabbed a chair and sat in it.  “Well, hello?  Are ya deaf as well?  ‘Cause I think I’ve been talking for the past twenty--”

 

“Oh, shut up!” Kukri snapped.

 

“But you just told me to--”

 

“Shush!”

 

Rent sighed.  “Gah, fine.  Fine!  Whaddaya want from me?”

 

“How do you suggest we go about finding these saboteurs?  You know, assuming you aren’t one of them.”

 

For the first time that night, Rent seemed pensive.  “Hmm… well, this will be difficult, I think.  Lotsa people in here.  Maybe too many…”

 

-----

 

As Rent stated, we’ve got a lot of people in this game!  28 is a lot.  What this means is that we really can’t trust the role distribution.  At all.  I mean, normally we can’t trust Meta in this sort of thing, but now it’s about ten times the potential trollishness.  He could've put 5 Mistborn in, or maybe none at all.  We don’t know, and we really won’t be able to guess role allocations.  We can be reasonably sure that there's at least 1 Village Seeker and 1 Village Lurcher, just in terms of game balance.  And according to the write-up, there's also at least 1 Tineye, but we don't know their alignment(s).

 

Now this, inherently, gives a bit of an advantage to the Spiked, as it allows them to claim roles more easily.  So, we're going to have to take a close look at players that do claim roles.

 

As for this current Night, I think that all Villager Smokers should turn off their copperclouds, so our Seekers get a better result on other players, and potentially allow some PM collaboration to begin.  If a player is copperclouded from the Seekers, it’ll definitely be something for them to keep in mind.

 

I also see no reason for Village Coinshots to Coinshoot tonight.  Hitting a Spiked this early, with practically no information, is rusting hard.  Also, that means that if we see two kills (and/or kill attempts) tonight, then we can assume that the Spiked have a Coinshot (or Mistborn), and Meta has screwed us over.

 

Lurchers should just Lurch themselves, since they’re too useful a role to lose this early on.

 

Tineyes, don’t reveal yourselves, or even hint to your identity in your Tineye messages.  We don’t want to lose PM communications too early over a simple message!  But with that being said, we’ll still want to voice the majority of our plans and suspicions in here, where all can see.  PMs are an addition to the thread, not the other way around.

 

Finally, Villagers with no roles (and, to a lesser extent, Thugs, Soothers, and Rioters), don’t think you’re not useful!  You can still vote and plan and point things out, which is the most important part of the game.

 

And thus endeth the rant of Ren.  I know lots of people are going to want to do RP this first Night, and that’s good!  But do keep this in mind, even if you didn’t actually read it.

[Lord Pifferdoo]

Baron Von Piffertiff the Third woke to the smell of smoke. He blinked a couple times, then cursed the villagers and their silly parties. He sat up in his bed and donned his stereotypical nightcap. 

"If there weren't bloody koloss heading this way to rip out our spines, I'd have them all thrown in stocks! Eh, if we still had the stocks." the Baron mumbled as he stood and slipped into his even more stereotypical robes. 

 

As Baron Von Piffertiff the Third stumbled through his dark, yet rustic mansion, he began to hear voices. He distincly heard the Captain of the Guard, Teys, yell something about water. Or otters. Either way, this was a cause for alarm! The Baron quickened his pace. 

 

The yells and screams only got louder as the Baron reached the front door. When he opened the door, he saw one of the guards running towards the front gate with a bucket. The Baron soon realized three things:

 

1. Teys had certainly not been talking about otters (thank goodness for that)

2. The barracks was on fire.

3. The guard had been running from the Baron's own personal water tanks.

 

"You there! Guard!" Baron Von Piffertiff the Third yelled out to the guard. "Just what do you think you're doing with that water?"

 

The guard, a young lad with a stupid looking slice of hair on his upper lip, turned and blinked, water sloshing onto his boots. 

 

"Wake the servants! Form a chain, you Mist-touched idiot!"

 

The stupidly-mustached guard blinked at least three times before dropping the bucket and running inside the house.

 

"Bloody fool, bloody incompetent damnation fool." The Baron stumbled a couple steps, bent over and lifted the buck, splashing a little water on the front of his robe. While he was cursing the water for being wet, the Baron spied a shape in the mist, running on top of the low estate walls. The Baron's eyesight was too poor to make out any details, except for one thing: The mists seemed to flow away from the shape, like rats before a hound. 

 

The Baron stared, then shook himself. Only one thing made the mists move like that, and the Baron hadn't seen one of those since his Canton days. No, I must be mistaken. Heh, Mist-taken. That was a pun. I'll have to use that later with Aralis.

 

"Steward!" Baron Von Piffertiff hollered, struggling with the bucket. He walked down the path and joined the water brigade that had already formed.   

[Ashiok]

"Ugh, this town is so DIRTY! I mean, I've been here a week, and look at my gowns! They're all sooty. Koloss would be better than this drudgery," Ashette whined, just as she had been for the last week. "But, I guess I'd rather survive to return to Luthadel and marry. Now. If I'm going to survive, we're going to need a plan. Here's what I'm thinking. You all run out, and fight the koloss. I'll hop in my carriage and ride away. How's that sound?"

She smiled cutely as everybody else groaned. "But, in all seriousness, we have to stick together. If we split up and start talking in messages and codes and suchlike, there'll be chaos and anarchy and Beetle incidents. We do NOT want any Beetle incidents.

 

Welp, Ashette seems to have summed up my logic fairly nicely. Cute, vapid and with a strong sense of self preservation. That's my Ashette Cett.

[Claincy]

With 28 players and only 9 powers I think we can be certain that every power will be represented and that there will be double ups of some (if not most or all) of the powers.

 

Clancy sat in the tavern tavern with the others, nursing a mug of ale. He maintained a calm front, but inside he was terrified: fighting the koloss had already seemed a hopeless task, and now they knew that there was at least one person inside the town who wanted them to lose. The situation reminded Clancy of a story he had heard long ago (though he couldn't quite recall where) about a situation very similar to this. Now might not be the best time to mention it though, everyone was badly shaken by the loss of the barracks, and the story didn't end well. Clancy shivered and took another pull on his ale.

[Seonid]

Senn cursed as he sat in the tavern, with the others of the village council. Saboteurs were bad for business. And, with the Watch gone, it looked like he'd have to go root them out himself. Well, he wasn't above getting his hands dirty, not like some high muckety-muck Great House nobleman. Or at least...well...if he could keep his hands clean while doing it, that would be nice, actually. Maybe the high muckety-mucks had something going for them after all. But he'd do his own saboteur hunting. No saboteur would put an end to his business. Not while he had anything to say about it, at any rate.

 

He stepped up to the table, ready to offer his insight (and his fists) to root out the saboteurs. Even if it did mean he had to work alongside skaa. The attack tonight meant that nobody was safe. He was willing to cooperate in order to save his life. After all, his cousin had been skaa (well...half-skaa, and the family didn't even like to mention that), and he was a decent person. Had been. Until the Steel Ministry caught up with him. There wasn't enough left after that to make a person, decent or no.

 

But the point was that he was all in. Even with skaa. Even if it meant he had to actually do...*shudder*...physical labor. Even if it meant that...*shudder for a lot longer*...he had to speak in public.

 

Squaring his shoulders and bringing out his courage (a small, puny thing, when you actually looked at it), he braced himself and asked the question.

 

"So folks. Any ideas?"

 

Like Senn said. What are y'all thinking?

 

As an aside, I'm new here. Technically, I've been in one game, but that was the Hunger Games free-for-all. Fun, but doesn't count towards experience for a faction game. Actually, if all y'all have any good tips for a newbie, I'd appreciate them.

[Herowannabe]

Herwynbe perked up at the shout of "Steward," and then realized that the call couldn't possibly be for him. He no longer held that title. What title did he hold now? The Synod had not given a name to the role he was to fulfill when they had assigned him his task. Shaking his head, he returned to his task- trying to help organize the rescue workers.

 

"Pardon me, townsmen," He said to a group of men rushing by with armfuls of wet blankets, "It would be quicker if you took this path instead, I think."

 

The men just glared and cursed at him and kept on running straight ahead- and fell right into Master Rent's pit. There was a moment or two of confusion as they picked themselves up and warded off Rent's demands for money, but they quickly found the ladder -one which Herwynbe himself had lowered into the pit when Rent wasn't looking- and continued towards the burning barracks.

 

Who am I now? Always in the past, his purpose had been so clear- as if it had been written plainly on the walls for all to see- but now?

 

Herwynbe approached the self-appointed Tax-Collector. "Master Rent, if I may; The town is in a state of emergency," He said, gesturing to the flickering flames. "It is customary in such circumstances for state officials to temporarily suspend items of non-essential business, including the collection of taxes, until such a time that-"

 

Rent cut him off with a gesture, pointing to Herwynbe's feet, then to his coin purse, before holding his palm up expectantly. "You know the routine, Terrisman. Pay up."

 

Herwynbe sighed, reaching for his coinpurse. He did indeed know the routine- this was the fourth time since his arrival that he had been forced to pay the ridiculous fine. He dutifully pulled out his last few boxings and placed them in Rent's palm.

 

"Now, Master Rent, as I was saying, Perhaps you would be willing to consider-" But Rent ignored him, choosing instead to chase after a couple young boys who had cut through the square to get a better look at the fire.

 

Herwynbe shook his head and walked on, surveying the chaos around him. He was no keeper- far from it. He was no scholar or great educator. Not an ambassador or a priest. But as he surveyed the chaos around him, he knew what title he hoped to earn by the end of this great debacle.

 

He hoped to become, with a little help from the Forgotten Gods, this town's savior.

 

---

 

I've got to second everything Renegade said. I would say more but I think he summed it up nicely. One thing I will add- to the Tineye(s) (and no, I am not a Tineye this game, thank the Survivor): Yes, as Renegade said, it would be unwise to reveal yourself, but still, I would suggest hiding SOMETHING in your messages. That way, if it comes down to it at some point, you can say "I am a Tineye, because I hid this and this and this in all my messages. See?"

 

Other than that, I'll just sit back and wait until a Seeker seeks me, and adds me to their PM group of people they trust.

[Kasimir]

There goes the Watch, thought Karnad, breathing a sigh of relief. Not that it was something he was going to say aloud, what with saboteurs in the village. They'd think he was the one sneaking about trying to kill the Town Watch, at this rate. Which wasn't his style. He'd been dragooned into them, sure, but he wasn't keen on selling his life for some insignificant waystop town.

 

He thought he heard Teys shouting orders in the chaos, which meant that his attempts to slink off weren't going to be particularly successful. "You there!" someone shouted. A watchman, Karnad realised, and swore quietly in his head. "Aren't you one of the auxiliaries? Get a bucket and start putting out the flames, now!"

 

"The rope in the well's been cut!" someone else called out.

 

"Lord Ruler," swore whoever it was who'd decided on taking command. Probably one of the watchman actually on duty, thought Karnad. Someone else'd said most of the poor fools were still trapped inside the barracks. "Look, get to the inn and tell the innkeeper we're using the rain barrels and horse troughs."

 

Karnad said, "What?"

 

"Are you deaf? There's people trapped in there, man! Move it!"

 

A bucket was thrust into his hands, and Karnad couldn't just throw the rusting thing on the ground. Grumbling to himself, he set off in the direction of the inn.

 

-

 

Generally agreed. If we do have a Seeker, they should start building up a group of Seeked that can be trusted. At this point, the best bet is in fact for the Lurcher to Lurch themselves--would probably take an extraordinary amount of trust to Lurch someone else, anyway.

 

Edit: colour.

ETA: On Hreo's point, I'd say it'd also depend on what the person claiming Tineye's hidden. We've got some people who're pretty good at picking out hidden things in this game (just look at Maili and Claincy, and consider that there're a lot of new players who could be as good!) Preferably, we'd like to rule out the possibility that it's a fakeclaim from someone who'd already picked out the pattern.

Edited January 2, 2015 by Kasimir

[Lightsworn Panda]

Well, I have to say, this is probably the game with the most Eliminators I've ever seen. Provided that Meta didn't go overboard with his trolling and didn't change the Eliminator to Villager ratio, there should be around 5-6 Eliminators. I can't even remember a game that had 5 Eliminators (Working together. Wyrm's MR Game doesn't really count, since the Eliminators didn't know who each other were). Digging the Spiked out will take quite some. I estimate that this Game will probably last for at least 5 Cycles.

 

Now, to continue the old tradition of getting some discussion by voting for someone. Wyrm, have you got anything to contribute to the discussion?

 

Edit: Do I really need to keep explaining my colour editor?

Edited January 2, 2015 by Lightsworn Panda

[Metacognition]

It's a night turn Light, but I like your enthusiasm! As I said before, sorry to whomever winds up dying before they even really get a chance to play.

[WeiryWriter]

Riew woke up coughing.

 

What the--? For some reason the room was full of smoke, but how?  Riew stumbled out of bed and opened the door.  A wall of flame greeted him. Lord Ruler. He slammed the door shut.

 

I don't want to die... He shook his head Moaning about it won't help Riew, find a way out of here!  There was a small window high on a wall across from him.  He grabbed hold of the bed and slowly pushed it so he could reach it.  It was a tight fit but he'd been in tighter.  He'd worked in Lord Krystain's manor since he was old enough to remember, doing jobs in the tiny places of the Manor.  The places the adults couldn't, or didn't want to, fit.  Even now he was small, not short exactly, at least he was taller than most people thought at a first glance--

 

What am I doing? Now is not the time to review my life's history, I need to get off this building, now.  He was still hanging outside of the window, just high enough that he couldn't be sure he wouldn't break anything if he fell.  Okay Riew, either you definitely burn alive or you maybe break something. What's it going to be? He dropped.

 

 

***

 

As I said before, sorry to whomever winds up dying before they even really get a chance to play.

 

Yeah, you can say that again...

 

Okay since I neglected to do this in the other thread (sorry).  Riew is a skaa in his early-twenties, he worked in a lord's manor doing repair jobs. He also /really/ doesn't want to die.

 

At this point I'm not really sure what we should be doing, any advice?

[Eolhondras]

Eoladdin stood in what he could only assume was a new style of conga line which included buckets of water. While admittedly it wasn’t quite as fun as the traditional style, passing buckets did have its merits and was at the very least amusing. It was a puzzle then, why all the others seemed so bewildered and upset. Angry even. Perhaps if he smiled a bit wider and laughed a bit louder, his good cheer would become infectious, though that hadn’t worked so far.

 

He bellowed a tentative giggle, (somehow), an action which was shortly followed by a number of curses and more than a few stares. Again, perplexed by the emotions of those surrounding him, Eoladdin gave up with a huff. He placed the bucket he had yet to pass on at his feet and promptly sat in front of it. Cue more curses, stares and maybe even a kick to the ribs.

 

He carefully took his lamp out of his sleeve and began stroking it while staring at his reflection in the bucket. His head was blasted from behind by the light of the fire, so he couldn’t really see his face. But he could see his eyes. Just as they stared at him, he stared at them. Into them. And somehow, beyond them, as if what he saw gave him the strength to be weird and wise in a way he would never normally be. The strength to make him speak.

 

“Allow me to break the fourth wall as only a truly mad man can do.”

 

“Perhaps a conversation? The correlation between convocation and conversation is actually quite beautiful. Life is beautiful, the girls are beautiful. Even the orchestra is beautiful. And so when two mice are dropped in a bucket of cream, it is the one that truly appreciates that which can be seen in this world that will make butter.”

 

“Please allow me to ask the hard question while you watch me as I know you do. Like ‘when will people learn to edit colour before posting?’ or ‘Do American’s really not know what a flat white is?’. Perhaps I might even voice one of yours… ‘What is this guy smoking’.”

 

“To that I say, Lamp oil.”

 

 

 

 

I agree with most of what Ren has stated and I think that's a good a start as any that we're going to get. 

 

The only thing I would add is really a question for [Meta] I was under the impression that, as smokers are "undetectable", they cannot remove the copper cloud from themselves/"turn it off" as Ren would say? Might give the seekers pause. 

 

This is also my first game with unrestricted PM's (for the time being anyway) so I'm very interested to see how they are used. In that regard, anyone who would like to PM me and have a chat about the game, I'd be glad of the chance to kill some time. Holidays have really left me with nothing at all to do.

[ostrichofevil]

Lord Tekiel dropped the piece of stained glass that he had been holding out the window.  He had heard cries.  He smelt smoke.  Where?  Suddenly, a cry sounded from below, followed by a strange shattering sound.  Not too bright of mind (he usually wasn't at night), he didn't realize what had happened.

 

"What's going on?  Is it a fight?  Has someone stolen my store of wine glasses and been breaking them on the street, while crying, to the light of a fire?  (Now that's far fetched!)"

 

He looked down, only to see Newan lying unconscious amid a scattering of broken glass.  A servant ran out of the manor, felt his pulse, and yelled "He's alive!"  A gravely voice from next door promptly yelled "Pipe down!"  More voices sounded in the street:  "The barracks are on fire!  Don't tell the soldiers!"

 

--

 

Let's just hope the seeker isn't spiked!

[Wyrmhero]

Originally, this was meant to be posted over two hours ago, but my internet decided to die (as it does back here at home), and then my laptop decided to show me a black screen and only a black screen when I turned it back on and attempted to log in. I hope this post was worth it >>.

 

Wyra muttered as she entered the forge, the heat hitting her suddenly as she stepped through the door. The fires were burning, and her employer was there at the bellows, stoking them to a suitable temperature.

 

"I've counted them three times," she said with a bored sigh. "None of the nails are missing from the shop. They must have bought them sometime in the past, that's all I can guess." Though why her master had an exact count of nails of all things, she couldn't guess. If that was what being a master smith was all about, she probably was going to have to reconsider her career choice.

 

The smith nodded, but said nothing, not even rewarding her with a glance over the shoulder. Wyra stood there awkwardly, waiting to be given her next pointless errand. He eventually finished his current task and stood up. He picked up a thick folder off from the desk nearby and brandished it at her. "Papers," he said. "Check for buyers."

 

Wyra sighed. If she was going to be checking through her spider-writing for everyone who bought a few nails in the last year, she'd be here forever. But still, she was under his authority, and couldn't really say much about it. Well, she could, but it wouldn't get anywhere. He'd just give her one of those glares that could make a Mistborn cower, and wait until she started apologising and offering to work overtime just to make it up to him. She hated that he could still do that to her.

 

"Fine," she said, forcing herself to take them rather than snatch them from his hand. She left again, muttering to herself about all the ways she'd get revenge when she stole his techniques and opened her own forge. Not that that would ever work out. Who would go to a female blacksmith, after all?

 

She decided that, if she was going to spend the day looking through illegible handwriting, she'd much rather do it with a drink in front of her. Rumours were already flying around this place too, so maybe she could get in a fight with someone just for the hell of it.

 

When she arrived at the tavern, she heard her name being mentioned. A traveler who'd been here a few days was sitting at one of the tables, slightly tipsy, and was proclaiming her to be the one who had boarded up the barracks. She grinned a little. Perhaps letting off steam wouldn't be too difficult after all.

 

Panda might be a little over-eager, but the enthusiasm is good. The quicker we discuss, the better. And the first lynch will not be entirely guesswork either, since we'll be a player down. So it's a good idea to get things written down here regardless of whether or not we can actually vote at the moment, and it's not a bad idea to start PMs this early as well, even if nothing much gets said in them. The more people speak before someone dies, the better. They might not be able to give out particularly useful information, but you never know what interactions between players might spring up.

 

Regarding an estimate of what we're dealing with here, I'd probably agree with doubling up on most Roles, except probably the Coinshot. The actual distribution though would depend on how many Eliminators there are. 28 people is probably too many for 5, so I might guess 6, but with more non-Allomancers. The last games with around that number had 5 max Eliminators (after conversions in LG2) and 6 in LG4. Last time though that Meta used less Eliminators rather than more, he compensated it by giving them a few more Roles, though admittedly there were a lot more Gunners than we expected that game .

 

It would be just like Meta to troll us by giving them the complete opposite of what they had during LG1, but... I would say that it's pretty much a given that they have a Smoker. Coinshot we can basically rule out (unless there's half the expected number of Eliminators in the game, that is). Other than that, probably either a Soother or a Rioter. If there's six, they might have a Seeker to give them an additional Role that doesn't strengthen them too much. If there are five, I would probably expect them to have a Thug or a Lurcher. Mistborn... If there are two, it'll be one per side, most likely. If there's one, I might expect it to be a Villager, just because that's not how the previous game went.

 

But we shouldn't be concentrating on this anyway. It's just worth remembering that they will almost certainly have some vote manipulation Role, and quite possibly a defensive Role too. I only mention it because now that someone has, we can leave it aside .

[Araris Valerian]

 As I said before, sorry to whomever winds up dying before they even really get a chance to play.

You would think smart people like us could come up with a "ghost" role or something for the first casualty. Maybe something like that should be added in the future.

 

Aralis was upset. First there were rumors about a mythical army of inhuman beasts called Kolos or some such nonsense, and now somebody set the barracks on fire. Clearly someone was going to a lot of effort to get someone to believe their lies. Most likely, if anyone was spiked, it would be the people that were making the most fuss about somebody's carelessness with a cooking fire.

"Why do we have to have our meetings in a dirty tavern of all places? There is a perfectly respectable town hall across the road that doesn't have alcohol, or this pizza stuff, or any other distractions. The sooner we find out who is spreading these lies the sooner I can gather a mob together and go chase that Rent fellow out of our home."

[Newan]

Newan's checking in, so you don't all think I'm inactive.  I just want to add one thing to the discussion: don't reveal your role in the thread.  This is obvious for the seekers and mistborn, but I'm addressing the people who don't think their roles are very cool.  Even if you are a vanilla, don't make that public knowledge.  If the spiked know who some roles are, they'll be able to narrow it down and will more likely hit a seeker or mistborn.  

 

And yes, this is me being a hypocrite.  I think that I have revealed my vanilla-ness in the thread in every game I have been a vanilla, so I understand the urge.  But don't do it!

[Sart]

"Why do we have to have our meetings in a dirty tavern of all places? There is a perfectly respectable town hall across the road that doesn't have alcohol, or this pizza stuff, or any other distractions. The sooner we find out who is spreading these lies the sooner I can gather a mob together and go chase that Rent fellow out of our home."

Satrams stared at the elder. "I think your eyesight is failing, old man. I pride myself on keeping this tavern clean. I can't stand the sight of ash tracked into my clean floor." He pulled out a rag, and began wiping his bar down. "Now you can go help put out the fire, or you can stay here and guard the alcohol with me." Satrams shuddered. "If this place were to burn down, let's just say it wouldn't be pretty."

[dowanx]

Ament was up late again working on yet another stereotypical robe for Baron Von Piffertiff.  He was a pompous chull, but at least he kept Ament in business.  That much Ament should be thankful for even if he was banished to this ash stained pit.  Tyrian Falls wasn't home to the type of customer Ament was trained to serve, but he was at least making ends...

 

A loud crack sounded throughout the night.  Almost as if a large timber exploded!

 

Ament rushed outside and saw an inferno of flame where the barracks should have been.  He gaped with awe at the inferno.  Ever since childhood Ament had admired Fire, but rarely got a chance to see one so large.  The way the Flames would dance from side to side, caressing then devouring whatever they touched.  The way Embers would pulse that hypnotic pulse of theirs suggesting at some form of life or sentience.  He could watch them for hours.

 

His gaze was interrupted as one of the town folk doused a section of the wall.  They were rushing about trying to suppress the beautiful creature.  Only then did Ament realize that people were actually trapped inside the barracks!  Worried, he dashed back into his shop grabbing blankets and whatever he could to help treat the wounded.  He had to help those he could.

 

For some reason Fire always gets the blame when someone dies.

 

 

-

 

 

I am pretty new to this and picked Tailor as a role, but when I tried to write some RP I realized two things.  First, I know next to nothing about tailoring and second the little I do know makes for some boring RP... so my guy is a firebug as well!  

 

Probably not a smart move having my character admire the burning barracks, but oh well he needed to have something unique about him.

 

 

Anyways onto strategy... 

 

I agree with Rent on most of his observations and suggestions.

 

Smokers should turn off their copperclouds.  We have to start building some verified trust and the sooner we can do this the better.

 

Lurchers should Lurch themselves.  At least for a little while until we can start making educated guesses.

 

Coinshots probably shouldn't kill anyone tonight either.  If we have multiple deaths I think it is a safe assumption the Spiked have a Coinshot or Mistborn.

 

As for the Tineyes putting something in their messages, I am not sure if this is a good idea or not.  There is going to be a lot of analysis going on here so if you do make a code make sure it is an extremely good code.  Or set a trap for a fakeclaim... that would be interesting.

 

Ament

 

I'm Awesome because I'm Awesome!

Edited January 2, 2015 by dowanx

[Renegade]

Newan's checking in, so you don't all think I'm inactive.  I just want to add one thing to the discussion: don't reveal your role in the thread.  This is obvious for the seekers and mistborn, but I'm addressing the people who don't think their roles are very cool.  Even if you are a vanilla, don't make that public knowledge.  If the spiked know who some roles are, they'll be able to narrow it down and will more likely hit a seeker or mistborn.  

 

And yes, this is me being a hypocrite.  I think that I have revealed my vanilla-ness in the thread in every game I have been a vanilla, so I understand the urge.  But don't do it!

 

Too bad, I'm revealing my role anyway:

 

Rent is a Territorial Landlord!  Each Night, he may choose to set up a trap in the town square.  All players that are caught in the trap (i.e. everyone) will be forced to pay a flat fee of 100 boxings to Rent.  Those who are unable or unwilling to pay the fee shall be smitten expeditiously.

 

Alright, no, back to seriousness.  What exactly is stopping any player here from claiming to be roleless?  There's no reason that anyone (including the Spiked) should take word of people's roles (or lack thereof) in here as true.  My role is obviously not a Territorial Landlord, even though I just claimed that it was above.  My point here is this: don't believe anyone.  Even those who have claimed to have Seeked you, or anyone else that seems to have been confirmed, can not be completely confirmed as good, unless you yourself are a Seeker.  That goes especially for PMs.  Trusting people too easily and giving out your role, or even hinting at your role in a PM, is a bad idea.

[Ashiok]

"This is boring. I need somebody to talk to." Ashette whined. 

AKA somebody, anybody, PLEASE. PM me.

[Araris Valerian]

"Of course my eyesight is failing! The mark of true wisdom is the loss of vision. I can't believe what I said to you there. Dirty tavern is such an oxymoron. Usually I'm much more careful with my speech. I might think better of your establishment if you stopped allowing foreign type disgusting foods to be displayed and eaten though."

[Mckeedee123]

Melend sulked.

 

He sat in the tavern (he hated taverns), drinking his ale (he hated ale), and feeling the skaa brush past (he hated skaa).

 

Why did everything always happen to him? First, his skaa had rebelled, forcing him to leave behind his 500-acre estate and mansion. Then his horses had died of exhaustion and malnutrition, stranding him in this podunk little town. Melend figured It was only a matter of time before he was sacrificed to these savages' pagan "survivor" god. Or something even worse.

 

Someone tapped Melend's shoulder. He turned around in horror. Had on of the skaa creatures actually touched him?

 

"It's time for you to retire to your room, perhaps. You shouldn't be drinking so much"

 

Ah, yes. It was Mazed. Melend's faithful Terrisman hadn't abandoned his master like the rest of his race. The Terris breeding programs were one of the few things that Melend didn't hate. That was saying something.

 

"I couldn't agree more, Mazed. I'll head upstairs."

 

Melend stood up to leave, but a gruff skaa yelled across the tavern.

 

"Hey, Mel! You leave, you die. We stay here until we have this saboteur thing figured out."

 

That would be "Maill". Only a skaa would have a name that was clearly derived from postage. Melend thought that...

 

Say what? "Die"? Had Melend just been threatened? Somehow, whatever everyone else was discussing seemed more pertinent. Something about how they were all too stupid to not board up the barracks before it caught on fire. Typical skaa stuff.

 

"Err... perhaps you should have done some fire drills or something. I'll tell you what those are after I get some sleep"

 

Maill raised an eyebrow, then looked back at the group. "I'm tempted to just kill this guy anyway, for being a condescending jerk."

 

Well this was going downhill fast. Skaa were unpredictable. One minute, they'd be happily working the fields, the next, they'd be erupting into a fiery rage and slaughtering noblemen. Melend needed to give them a firm hand. He stalked forward

 

"Now listen here, peasant" Melend proclaimed, "You think to give me orders? A Venture? A descendant of men who walked with Alendi himself? You, you..."

 

Maill gave him such a look of contempt that he faltered. "Yeah, let's lynch him."

 

Joe piped up. "Anyone got a rope?"

 

"Nah, we're having trouble replacing the one that got cut during the sabotage."

 

"I say we just tear him apart right now"

 

Lord Ruler. Was this really happening again? Clearly, skaa brains could only comprehend two things: Work and violence. Right now, Melend had to get them focused on work again.

 

He spoke: "Rope? I've got rope. You could go ahead and put it in the well right now."

 

Maill looked skeptical.

 

"It's an heirloom from my mother. Jewel-encrusted, monogrammed, the whole nine yards. It's great rope. You should really see it."

 

Melend's list of carry-ons was extensive. Admittedly, Melend wasn't quite sure why his eccentric great-grandmother had invested several thousand boxings in the creation of that rope, but hey, when you're rich, you don't let anyone tell you how expensive you want your rope to be.

 

He waved for Mazed to grab it from his room. For a few tense minutes, nothing happened, then Mazed came down the steps with the coil in his hands.

 

Melend grinned. They were hooked.

 

Maill sighed "Ament and Odustren, go get that set up. We should probably start a watch rotation on all the wells, just to make sure they're not poisoned during the night."

 

He looked at Melend. "And you, just... shut up. We'll figure out what to do with you later.

 

Phew. Melend had really dodged a coin there.

Edited January 2, 2015 by mckeedee123

[Sarcomere]

Reeco regarded the obnoxious old man- his name was apparently Aralis -from behind the counter he had fashioned into a makeshift pizza station.

 

Satrams had been nervous about letting Reeco take up residence in his tavern as a pizza-monger, at first. That was until Reeco suggested that Satrams should try giving the strange new food a taste test. Maybe Satrams wouldn't have looked quite so nervous if Reeco hadn't brought out his pizza cutter. Even now, everyone seemed to suspect that the pizza cutter had a deeper, darker, bloodier purpose and instinctively shied away from it. Reeco still wasn't sure if his gratuitous room and board was a result of his culinary prowess or of the threat Satrams perceived to his life.

 

No one in Tyrian Falls seemed to be familiar with pizza, but it had quickly become a well-liked novelty in the area despite the flinching whenever Reeco brought out his pizza cutter.

 

Yet there was someone who dared call it "disgusting." A direct challenge to Reeco's pride. Was that a smirk he saw?

 

Reeco rolled up his sleeves. Time to bring out the very best in his repertoire. The Great Saucy Extravaganza should do it, he thought. There was no way Aralis could fail to acknowledge the brilliance of this masterpiece.