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13 minutes ago, A Joe in the Bush said:

Amanuensis was Lynched! He was a Spiked!

Votes:
Amanuensis(4): Jondesu, Elbereth, Wilson, Mailliw

Remember! Only Tineye’s can start PM’s!

[url=https://www.pending.me.uk]blu_1487307600.png[/url]

Player List:

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Magestar   "I'm signing up. Which is totally an awful idea."

Rodpen  "Named after his writing utensil that is over three feet long."

Rovan  "Joe in full Troll mode is not to be passed up."

Bartimaeus  "It seem like it is going to be fun!"

Sheon Idris  "I have needed a Troll!Joe game in my life."

Seixa  "Can't think of a better game to come back to".

Stick  "I'll sign up because I feel safe."

Emissary of Mandos  "I had a blast last TrollGM!Joe game I played."

Soflo Rigorrio  "today we will look at how to troll some trolls"

Arinian  "he hates Mistborns"

Avrao Ngao   "*Takes the spear from the dusty old cupboard and hides it.*"

Trollquisitor "I would like to sign up."

Ayden Kahler "I can't pass up one of Joe's games"

Luckless Gibbs  "Vengeance!"

Rin  "Why not?"

Vladek  "If you want more bodies, you can add mine to the pile"

Ryth  "Former Guard"

Bart  "I'm starting to run out."

Hissure  "MWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!"

Temaun Renaud “That sounds like a challenge to me.” Spiked Lynched Cycle 0

Ruin, Italics required  "Ruin, Itallics required"

Jon  “I'll die early”

 

 

When the heck did this happen? I don't recall this vote.

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Hush Silver.

I think i have sent out all GM PM's. If you have missed your PM, please PM me in the PM I sent you when you signed up.

Rule Clarifications:
Tineye's may not add players to an existing conversation. All players most be added before any player has read the original post.

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The wood shuddered and cracked, but it held. The Emissary of Mandos  hit it again with his short, stout sword, and this time it buckled. Blasted coffins.  Every time it took more effort to open them, and so far Mandos hadn't gathered the power to transport his servants into anywhere else.  That would change eventually, but for now... coffins.

Climbing out of the shredded coffin into the coffin-maker's shop, the Emissary assessed his bearings. He was in the eastern edge of town, about two miles from the center.  But instead of setting off for the center of town, where his main objective lay, the Emissary strolled casually in the other direction.  He had another coffin to hit, this one already buried.

 The grave was fresh, recent. The grass had barely grown over it, and the etching of the name was not yet filled with ash.  Cassius Danger Capital, it read.  This was the one Mandos had specified, all right.  The Emissary thrust his shovel into the ground and began to dig.

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