286 posts in this topic

Winter is ending, snow falling hard all around. The mountain passes have been covered in snow, keeping you all stuck in the Duladel trading outpost you visited late in the season. Hopefully the winter will be short, but now, a new pressure has arisen. Mai, a lonely trader, not one to talk much, was found outside the outpost, flayed and sacrificed. You know the signs, Followers of the Jeskeri Mysteries are stuck in the outpost with you, making their sacrifices daily. Snowed in, you have no chance but to find them and kill them before they kill you.
 
All Traders: Must submit one vote through a PM to the GM(Mailliw73), once during every cycle hour period. These votes will be made public at the end of the period, and the most voted for player will be sent to die in the snow. You may vote however you wish in the thread, but the vote received in the PM will be your official vote.
 
Anyone who does not either talk to the Outpost’s Owner(the GM), come to the community dinner meetings, or meet with other traders for two consecutive days will freeze in their rooms.  
 
Follower of the Mysteries: The followers of the Jeskeri Mysteries must each send one vote for sacrifice via PM to the GM (Mailliw73) per cycle in addition to their normal vote. The most voted for player, in this fashion, will be sacrificed for their own mysterious purpose.
 
Priest of Jesker: The Priest of Jesker is a learned man, and can identify the sacrifice of the Jeskeri Mysteries, having tried to root them out in the past. The Priest may investigate one other player per day (by contacting the GM) to learn if they are a follower of the Mysteries or not.
 
Jindoeese Soldier: The Jindoeese Soldier is trained in the art of ChayShan and can guard one player at night. Anyone who attacks the trader whom the Soldier is guarding will be fought off and the protected trader will not die.
 
Rulo: The Rulo is the fool who managed to get himself stuck in a trading outpost he had no business being in. He’s a bit kayana, so every night he scrawls a message somewhere in the outpost, too bored to sleep.
 
Seon Holder: The Seon Holder makes it so that anyone can send messages(PMs) to any other living players. As long as a Seon Holder is alive, there is no limit to PMs, except that the GM must be included in all of them.
 
The game will start on Monday, November 23rd, at 3:30 MST. Cycles will be 24 hours long. Rollovers will be at 3:30 PM MST/10:30 PM GMT. Spec doc available upon request.


The order of actions is as follows: 
Rulo Message
Soldier
Lynch
Priest
Sacrifice

Quick Links:

Edited by Alvron
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Clarifications:

1. The order of actions is as follows:

Rulo Message

Soldier

Lynch

Priest

Sacrifice

2.

When you say the lynch votes are made public that means it is revealed who voted for who or just how many votes?

All votes by every player will be made public like in most games. Example: Maill votes for Clanky, Clanky votes for Wilson, and Wilson votes for Maill. Votes would appear as such:

Maill (1): Wilson

Clanky (1): Maill

Wilson (1): Clanky

Also I may have missed something but is there an Evil Doc or do they have to use PMs as well?

It will depend on the amount of cultists, which will partly depend on how many people sign up. If there end up being enough that a PM will just be unwieldly, they'll get a doc, but if there are only a few, it'll be just a PM.

Player List:

1. Hellscythe: ???

2. IrulelikeSTINK: ???

3. Alvron: Ratel

4: Orlok: Locke Tekiel

5: Bridge Boy: Aim

6: Venture Mistborn: Alexanderand

7: Metacognition: Merad Donner

8: Ostrichofevil: Lord Ostrich Malescei Tekiel

9: Creccio: Inor Haze

10: Kaid: Delen Valavan

11: Bort: Borter Clams

12: Phattemer: Seixa

13: Shallan: Citona Vinid

14: Clanky: Claan

15: TheMightyLopen: Kaloo

16: Lightsworn Panda: Jain

17: Elkanah: Al

Edited by Mailliw73
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I would like to join! 

 

What is the order of actions?

Edited by IrulelikeSTINK
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The door opened with a slam as it hit the wall.  A gust of wind swirled in bringing with it the chill of winter that ripped right through one's body.  The sun streaming in through the open door doing nothing but blind those that looked to see who was arriving.

 

After a while one of the other patrons finally got up and closed the door.  As they were heading back to the seat a voice could be heard muttering near the fire.

 

"'Bout time you did that.  Young people these days.  Letting all the heat out.  Why in my day we didn't wait half an 'our to close the door.  No sir.  We would've had it closed before it even opened."

 

Sitting in one of the large chairs near the blazing hearth was an old prospector.  Nobody had seen him arrive nor had they ever seen him before yet all knew his name; Ratel.

 

A rerun of the first QF.  Ratel is back from the grave.

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The order of actions is as follows: 

 

Rulo Message

Lynch

Priest

Soldier

Sacrifice

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Unfortunately I'm going on a ten day vacation (finally!) three days after this begins, so as much as I would love to participate, I think I'll sit this one out and simply spectate. Thanks :D

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When you say the lynch votes are made public that means it is revealed who voted for who or just how many votes?

 

Also I may have missed something but is there an Evil Doc or do they have to use PMs as well?

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When you say the lynch votes are made public that means it is revealed who voted for who or just how many votes?

 

Also I may have missed something but is there an Evil Doc or do they have to use PMs as well?

All votes by every player will be made public like in most games. Example: Maill votes for Clanky, Clanky votes for Wilson, and Wilson votes for Maill. Votes would appear as such:

 

Maill (1): Wilson

Clanky (1): Maill

Wilson (1): Clanky

 

It will depend on the amount of cultists, which will partly depend on how many people sign up. If there end up being enough that a PM will just be unwieldly, they'll get a doc, but if there are only a few, it'll be just a PM. 

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Yo, Joe.  You need to sign up for this game!  It won't be the same if you don't end up voting yourself out again. :o

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I would also like to spectate, simply because I dont think I can juggle two SE games as well as NaNo and finals. :(

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Krippe, the postmaster, trudged up to the outpost, weighed down by the mailbag he carried on his back. The reinforced stockade around the outpost had exactly one door, at the end of this path. He stumbled over a snow-covered rock and almost lost his balance, the mailbag shifting position precariously.

Reaching the end of the path, Krippe shook the mailbag off, glad to have a chance to rest his weary shoulders. He fumbled at the latch with mittened hands, to no avail. Krippe shucked the mittens off and dropped them on the ground, then thought better of it and put them between his teeth. After all, there was no sense in losing one's mittens during the middle of winter, with plenty of stops left to visit. He undid the freezing latch and pushed his weight against the door. It creaked, but did not open. He pushed harder. This time, it did not creak. But it remained closed, apparently latched from the inside. He pulled his mittens back on.

Krippe yelled, "Guard! Mail deliv--" and here his voice cracked from disuse and the cold. He cleared his throat again and took a swig from his brandy bottle, which he kept close to his body, beneath several layers. He shivered from the biting wind, and wrapped his scarf just a little tighter around his neck. The wind died a little.

"Guard! Mail delivery from Duladel!" No response. This was most definitely strange, as the guards were usually so attentive for word from the outside. Then Krippe heard it.

The chanting was hard to pick out in the wind at first, but it slowly crescendoed into an easily discernable tune. It went down, then back up, never really following a particular song, or at least not one that Krippe knew. Then it stopped, and so did the wind. It was as if the entire trading outpost was taking a breath. Then, Thump. And the wind resumed.

Krippe turned the corner and saw the source of the thump. A body; a stain on the pristine whiteness. Trickles of red infected the snow, Krippe noticed as he ran. He knelt beside it, for a moment heedless of the wetness seeping through the knees of his trousers. But it was clearly too late. The body had a massive hole where its left breast should have been. Krippe turned and ran.

He grabbed his mailbag on the way, awkwardly slinging it over his shoulder. The mailbag slapped him in the back of the legs with every step as he lurched down the path, slipping and sliding. He didn't stop until he reached his horse. Gasping, with his throat aching, Krippe sat down on top of his mailbag. He addressed his horse.

"Well, Destrier, I guess we've got ourselves in a royal mess. Have to stay here until we can get in, but we can't do it now. I'll set up the tent, and then we'll wait, I guess. I'm sure whoever's inside will get it sorted eventually."

He wearily got up and walked back to his baggage cart, thighs screaming from the headlong run and sweating in all his layers, despite the cold. Krippe grabbed a few horse blankets and some sugar for Destrier, then pulled a shelter from the very bottom of the cart. They didn't select me to be a Postmaster of Duladel for nothing, Krippe thought. Come rain or snow, the mail will be delivered.

It began to snow.

Sign me up for the Spec Doc, boss! Unfortunately, things are going to preclude me from taking part in this one. :(

Edited by Kipper
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Jeskeri cultists?

Asim hid his annoyance beneath the mask of a travel-weary courier, as he eavesdropped on the hushed conversations. The man, whatever his name was, had been killed in a brutal way, for certain, but all Asim could think about was how much more dangerous it was making his journey, being trapped in an inn with a group of bloodthirsty people, and another group of people running around like headless chickens.

The people of Sycla, it seemed, were completely and utterly kayana, as the Dula would say, and he wasn’t opposed to wringing Gaelena’s neck for making him take the seldom-used pass to Teod, and then get on a creaky old ship from Teoras all the way down to Iald, and then by horse to this Duladel trading outpost in the mountains, at which point, he’d promptly gotten snowed-in.

And trapped with a group of crazy, murdering maniacs.

Not that Asim quite had anything against murderers; some of them were rather pleasant to work with, and if you wanted to get anywhere in the Imperial Seat these days, it was always wise to have a good assassin on your payroll. On the contrary, however, it was the principle of the matter: he preferred it when he was the one with the hand on the knife—or crossbow, as it were—and the idea of a group of people doing it with such excess—flaying, by the thousand Suns!—rather offended any principle of professionalism he might’ve possessed.

In addition, he preferred to kill as a last resort. Disabling, Asim had found, was simply a better option: there were no inconvenient corpses to dispose of, and people asked less questions, which meant you didn’t wind up having to get rid of them as well.

After all, his business was secrets: the more integral to a state, the better—his trade was spycraft, not execution, and if he could avoid leaving a trail of bodies behind him from Duladel all the way to the Imperial Seat, so much the better.

At the moment, he was headed for the embassy in Duladel, which meant he was once again Asim the courier, delivering important messages from the embassy in Arelon. Most of those were encrypted, of course. One could not play the game without taking a certain pride in careful authenticity. The real information was buried among the pages of a book he was carrying with him, and decipherable only with reference to the appropriate pages.

Still, the murders would be causing him considerable inconvenience.

Asim shook his head at the folly of the world, went back into the inn, paid off the innkeeper with a handful of coins, grabbed his saddlebags, went down to the stable, slung them over his horse and mounted up. Katien was a shaggy mountain horse; a study breed, the sort they used to get around in the cold and ice in the highlands of the Rose Empire. He had been surprised—well, just a little—to find them available in this region as well, though he supposed it made sense.

Considering the present company, he would take his chances with the snow.
 
Just like in QF1, Asim the 'Courier' will not be playing :P I have a final exam to study for and a thesis that won't write itself, alas >> I'm sure you'll get on just fine without me. I would, however, like to be added to the spec doc.

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There are too many couriers/mail people going to this place! 

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I'm unlikely to have time to even attempt RP this game (and I do try... On occasion...)

Still I'd like to join up as Locke Tekiel please

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I guess I'll be Mai's brother, who specifically came to the post to get revenge. Unless he was the one that did it. He's dirt poor though, and has no possessions besides the cloak on his back and a single worn butter knife. His name is... Aim!

 

I'm joining up if you couldn't guess. :P

Edited by Bridge Boy
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I really shouldn't play. Like Kas, I have finals and just a ton of work to do, but I couldn't pass up the chance to play with this character! :P

 

Merad Donner stumbled through the snow. His caravan had tried to make the pass early in the winter. The effects of such had made him unkempt and incredibly disheveled. His beard and hair had grown long and wildly. His clothes were a mishmash of old, worn out hand me downs and furs. His cheeks were hollow from malnutrition and he had the hundred-yard stare of one that had looked into the abyss and had lived to tell the tale. 

 

His appearance was entirely the fault of circumstance. He had, before their disastrous trip, been a very healthy and hale man. But the caravan had gotten lost and stuck, as winter had come early that year. With winter blowing in hard, it wasn't long before they had ran out of supplies. It was then that they turned to... what some would've called "unfavorable choices." Merad wouldn't have, but some people would.

 

Well, that time was all over now. He'd had to "lose" the last of their party a little over a week ago. It was either leave what was left of the caravan and the corpses behind or starve. 

As he crested a hill, he noticed smoke rising in the distance. Could it be? Had he found his way back to civilization? 

 

He took out the last of his homemade jerky and ripped off a small piece. The tang of the piece was unlike any other flavor of animal he'd ever tasted and he loved it. 

 

Whether he had found civilization or not, smoke at least meant people and people meant food... So he set off towards it, his mouth watering.... 

 

I will try to be as available as possible, but remember, I did say that I probably really shouldn't be signing up! :D

I'm still chuckling a bit about the whole "people meant food" bit. I crack myself up sometimes!

Edited by Metacognition
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This shall be Kae's Story, Part 2 because... Jeskeri... I really shouldn't... Nanowrimo...

Storm this addictive game!

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I will be joining as Lord Ostrich Malescei Teokel, descendant of House Maleris-Tekiel.

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This seems really interesting. I think I'll spectate this one, and maybe join in on the next one once I figure out for myself exactly how things work.

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Inor Haze would like to join

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Yo, Joe.  You need to sign up for this game!  It won't be the same if you don't end up voting yourself out again. :o

I'd forgotten about that. <_<

 

And Maybe I will sign up. I'm still super busy, but it is a quick fix game. . .

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There are too many couriers/mail people going to this place!

ua7uo.jpg

 

I really shouldn't play. Like Kas, I have finals and just a ton of work to do, but I couldn't pass up the chance to play with this character! :P

There's a perfect word to describe what you're doing: akrasia ;) Also, I am disappoint: Maili's GMing and you join? :P How's he gonna kill you now?

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I'd like to join! Add me as Delen Valavan

Edited by Kaid
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