Long Game 12: Shadows of Elantris

[Metacognition he/him]

Noname McDuck (Metacognition)

 

Careful, Hero. Now I'm tempted to run with that and give him a second personality as Darkwing Duck!

 

I am sorry I haven't gotten around to a character yet. I will correct that tonight!

[Wonko the Sane he/him]

Much as I like the 'No Face' shtick, I'm going as Won LenReen, or Len; an accomplished SoulForger. Having recently discovered an Aonic ancestry, I have travelled to the land of Arelon, seeking answers.

 

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that Stamps don't work here.

Edited May 22, 2015 by Wonko the Sane

[Herowannabe he/him]

Careful, Hero. Now I'm tempted to run with that and give him a second personality as Darkwing Duck!

 

 

Let's get dangerous 

[Metacognition he/him]

Let's get dangerous 

 

You have no idea how tempted I am! 

 

Instead, I'll go with MenE. The capitalization is important. 

MenE's parents had such great plans for him. His original name was MEne, named after the Aon, Ene; the aon of wit and cleverness. He had seemed so clever as a toddler. He could figure out the difference between a round hole and a square one with ease. He was counting before his first year! But as time wore on, MenE seemed to lose momentum. Social cues became difficult to him. Abstract math and reading were a mystery to him. 

 

It was almost as if he had become one of the Heod himself, except that he exhibited none of the regular signs. 

 

Luckily, his family used their last influence to find him a job as the palace, sweeping and scrubbing floors. 

 

What no one knew, what no one expected, was that MenE's mind was a steel trap. He had learned too much and it kept getting jumbled up inside his head. If he could ever figure out how to make use of it, he'd have more secrets than any rivaling nation. 

 

The question is, of course, if.... 

Edited May 22, 2015 by Metacognition

[Bort he/him]

"Excuse me, Sir." The voice was deep, and slightly higher than Borter Clams' ears. Turning, the youth from a fishing village up the coast saw a city guard holding a hand up to stop him.

 

"What is it officer?" Borter asked politely. The guard was considerably larger than Borter, and while the youngster was quite capable when wielding a filleting knife, he wasn't going to argue with someone much larger than himself, wearing metal armour and carrying a spear, dagger, and a sword. Why did he need so many weapons? Borter wondered as the guard drew close.

 

He handed Borter a piece of fine paper and said, "Patriarch Seinalan is making an announcement at the palace later today, and as the 25th person to enter the city through this gate in this hour, you are hereby invited to attend the speech. Present this invitation at the palace gates between 1pm and 2pm, and you will be admitted. Good day, citizen."

 

The guard turned and walked away, his nose slightly wrinkled. The youth had stank of fish, but he had done his duty, and sometimes, the rich denizens of the palace deserved to have their noses rubbed in some good, honest labour stench every now and then.

 

Borter couldn't believe his luck. His first day in Arelon, and he was already invited to the palace. This was a great way to start him seeking his fortune.

[Kasimir he/him]

The docks of Kae were bustling with activity. A precariously-stacked cart hit a rut and toppled; Kaian deftly side-stepped the shower of vegetables that soon followed. He heard cursing as he moved on through the crowd. The frenetic chaos of the docks was both surprising and alarming. If there was anything that was wholly unlike the stillness and discipline of the monastery, Kaian thought, the docks of Arelon's capital city had to be it.

 

"Watch where you're going!" a man snarled, shoving his way past Kaian. A piece of paper fluttered out of his pocket and into a puddle of mud.

 

"You dropped something!" Kaian called out, after him, almost-bemused. How did everyone in Arelon survive amidst all this overwhelming chaos? Or, said that quiet voice at the back of his head, how did you survive in all that stifling obedience of the monastery?

 

The man looked back and wrinkled his nose at the damp letter. "Keep it," he muttered. "It's filthy and it's unimportant." With a distasteful swish of his cloak, he moved on, splattered a few bystanders as his polished boots stepped in a mud puddle.

 

Someone's going to have to go to a lot of effort to clean that up later, Kaian thought. He bent down and picked up the letter. Despite the spreading mud stains, he could make out the Aonic script with some difficulty. An invitation to the palace? He frowned. He'd never gotten to see a palace before, Kaian realised, wistfully. Maybe this was a chance to do something! A few months away from the monastery and he'd already seen more of the world than he'd ever had before, and now he could add an actual Jaddeth-praised palace to the list!

 

He blinked and examined the letter again with a sinking heart. It was Patriach Seinalan who was making the speech; it was Shu-Korath here, he'd forgotten...

 

You're not a krondet anymore, he told himself. He realised he was crushing the soggy letter in his fist. Carefully, Kaian stepped aside and smoothed it out against a nearby wall, trying to tug it back into shape. He looked at it. The letter was crumpled, crinkled, and splattered with mud, but the Aonic script was still readable, informing everyone that the bearer was to be permitted into the royal palace.

 

Perhaps they wouldn't even let him in, even with the letter. What did he know?

 

I'm going to see a palace, Kaian decided, at last. He folded the letter and set it into his pocket with care, next to the odd bit of string and the chattering ferret he'd befriended in Kondeon.

 

He smiled. Once the decision had been made, there was no point questioning it or letting it weigh him down. So he released it to the winds, and whistling, walked on.

Edited May 22, 2015 by Kasimir

[Bort he/him]

Me neither. I expect we'll get them sometime this evening.

[Herowannabe he/him]

Tulir and I are slowly working on sending them out. If you haven't gotten a PM within the next 8 hours, let us know!

[Kasimir he/him]

Just wanted to drop a quick word to note that I appreciate the work you're putting into a game of this complexity and player size, GMs Almighty Take as long as you need!

[Renegade he/him]

“Ay, ye scurvy dogs, grab yer swaggerin’ garb an’ sell me a boatload o’ loot!  Sunshine’s a-wastin’!”  Riingar gestured wildly, ordering his crewmembers to seek out and haggle with the other merchants gathered around the Court.  Riingar’s crew of finely dressed scallywags had their reputation to keep up, of course.  Indeed, as Riingar’s men sprang into action, he heard whispers about his sales methods.

 

“Aggressive negotiations indeed.”  “That fellow drives a hard bargain.”  “Riingar.  Yes, the pirate one.  Yes, like Dreok Crushthroat or Jatae the Insatiable.”  “Don’t care how much they smell, they’ve got the best products from the farthest reaches of Opelon.”

 

Aye, Riingar did have a reputation to keep.  In fact… Riingar stopped, peering around the palace grounds.  Thar be more people here than usual, Riingar noted.  None of his old merchant rivals appeared to be present, though.  That was always a good sign.  If Gammai had showed up on a bustling day like today, Riingar might’ve torn the fiend’s head right off.  He had, in fact, torn a few heads off before, but those had been back in his pirating days.  But if someone like Gammai pulled off something like he did last time…

 

Riingar’s merchants ran around the busy Court, adding to the general confusion as they traded, sold, and made an all-around great profit.  Riingar swelled with pride.  Only took a few years, he thought, an’ I have more loot than I ever coulda got from piratin’.

 

A shame that he was about to lose it all.

 

Riingar grinned up at the sky, taking in the breeze, and his eyes inexplicably fell on the large city of Elantris looming high above the horizon.  Elantris, the city where the dead-but-not-really-dead people went.  Riingar frowned, looking quizzically at the city walls.  Wonder what life in thar be like…

 

Well, figured that I ought to do some sort of RP before I turn into a zombie and they haul me off to Elantris.  So see ya on the other side, mateys!

[Zas678 he/him]

Well then, if you’re going to be thrown in at the beginning of the cycle, I’ll already be in there.

 

(Some unspecified time ago) Diren woke up, feeling…. odd. He blinked a few times, trying to catch his bearings. He didn’t feel sick exactly. He also didn’t feel tired, not really. He was, however, remarkably famished. He would have to get something to eat before entering (once again) into the pitiful library of Kae. He had hoped for so much more from a city so close to the city of Elantris. He had hoped that some would see the need, see the remarkable value of the books in Elantris when it fell.

 

But no. The fear, the chaos, and the new government made sure that anything of or from Elantris turned to garbage. Just like the city itself.

 

Diren still dreamed about them occasionally. He remembered the days, spent chatting with Elantrians, spent talking and helping, and learning. All that was gone now. All of them were gone now. Taken, destroyed during the Reod.

 

If only he could find a way into the city, find some of the books, some of the classics that he had yet to see in any other place, books so old they dated the coming of the people to Elantris itself. It was easy for the Elantrians to have an appreciation of history- so many of them were so long lived, that they were part of a great deal of it.

 

Others, particularly merchants, seemed to be only interested in the now. Diren scoffed at that. The now was determined by the then, set in motion by the motivations and grudges and favors of the path! Understand the past, recognize the patterns and the behaviors, and one could predict the future. Then the now was easy.

 

But how could he find the past? How could he find those books, those tomes that held the secrets of the future?

 

He went to the window, and opened the drapes, then went to the mirror and stopped cold. Could it be? His chance, his opportunity to find the past again? He moved closer, trying to contain his joy. Yes, his skin was blotchy, wrinkly even (though that wasn’t much of a change). He could see the little of the hair that was left was falling off.

Indeed. His prayers were finally answered.  The Shaod had come upon him. His chance to see History was at hand.

 

Two quick questions- Can Hoed vote for Elantrian Lynches? They can talk, so they could use one of their five words to specify someone to kill, right? Also, do Hoed "win" if the Citizens win? Or are they considered dead? 

[Herowannabe he/him]

Two quick questions- Can Hoed vote for Elantrian Lynches? They can talk, so they could use one of their five words to specify someone to kill, right? Also, do Hoed "win" if the Citizens win? Or are they considered dead? 

 2 quick answers:

 

No, Hoed cannot vote or take actions.

They retain their factions (and lover-ness), and win if their faction wins.

[Herowannabe he/him]

Okay, everyone should have received a PM from Tulir or me telling your your role/faction/items by now. If you have not yet received one, or if something looks amiss, please PM us and let us know!

 

The game will be starting soon, but will probably be a little delayed. I promised my wife I would start painting the bathroom tonight, and need to make some progress on that before it gets too late. I will finish the writeup and start the game before I go to bed tonight though.

 

Good luck players!

[Herowannabe he/him]

Ten years ago, Elantris was first published fell. The gods of the majestic city withered into wretched creatures, reviled and despised by all. The city, which had once been the center of science, learning, peace, prosperity, and Elantrian Magics, was turned into a prison, and the Elantrians who had survived the upheaval were locked inside and left to bemoan their fate. Over time the city, like its inhabitants, withered and rotted.

Outside of Elantris, in the city of Kae, life had moved on. Merchants traded, pirates plundered, kings governed, priests taught, young couples fell in love, and… something darker was stirring. Seinalan knew this. As patriarch of the Korathi church he was kept well abreast of current events, and the reports he had been receiving lately had disturbed him.

The Jeskeri Mystery cults- once a minor nuisance in faraway kingdoms- had spread and gained foothold here in Kae, complete with maiden sacrifices, pronounced curses, and all the other vulgar pagan rites. If Seinalan’s reports were accurate, and he had every reason to believe they were, the cults had even infested the nobility and the wealthy elite of Kae! Seinalan hadn’t had a choice- he had come to the city to call the people to action, to root out and eliminate any cultists among them.

There was a knock at the door.

“You may enter,” Seinalan called. He looked himself over in the mirror. He tucked a loose strand of his luxurious blonde hair back in place then flashed his winning smile. Perfect.

The door opened to admit one of his attendants. “The people are gathered and awaiting your speech, your Holiness.”

“It is good,” Seinalan said, “You may lead the way.”

Seinalan followed his attendant through the corridors and stairwells until they reached the King’s court. The large room was packed full of people, mostly nobility and wealthy merchants, but with a fair number of commoners as well, all of them anxiously awaiting the word of their Patriarch.

Seinalan smiled at them- the same smile he had practiced in the mirror before. “People of Kae, Domi be praised!” He began, speaking loud enough that all in the room could hear him. “It is always a joy to my heart to see your faces and to be among you. But I fear the reason I have come is not a pleasant one. There is a darkness growing...”

He trailed off. Something felt wrong. His heart beat quickly, and he felt hot. He swallowed and tried to continue. “A darkness, growing among you. The Jesker-”

He broke off again, this time with a gasp. His heart was pounding now, he could hear it in his ears and his head throbbed along with its steady beat, and he felt… something.... pressing against him. It felt like something was trying to strangle him and tear him apart at the same time, from the inside. He staggered, clutching at the lectern for support. All throughout the room people gasped and cried out in shock, eyes wide with horror.

The chest of Seinalan’s magnificent robe was wet. He looked down and saw something dark starting to seep through the heavily embroidered cloth. It was blood. His blood. He fumbled at the ties of his robe. His hands were shaking, but he managed to loose them, and pulled his robe open. The skin of his chest had split open in a jagged, intricate pattern, as if some twisted calligraphist had used a filleting knife to carve an Aon into his flesh. But this was no Aonic symbol- the twisting patterns were those used by the Jeskeri Mystery cults. Even as Seinalan watched, a curving line split open, finishing the symbol, blood seeping from the wounds.

The room tilted, and Seinalan found himself lying on the floor, staring up at the terror-stricken faces of those who had rushed to his aid. One of his priests, kneeling over him, was speaking to him. It was hard to hear him- Seinalan realized that the room was filled with the sounds of screams and panicked shouting. He blinked his eyes, trying to clear his head.

“... is doing this?” the priest was asking.

“Jeskeri Mysteries…” he gasped, his voice barely more than a whisper. The beating of his heart was growing fainter now. Slowing.

“But… How?” the priest asked. “Where?”

“Close… Here… in the… palace. You… must… find...”

He trailed off. Speaking was so difficult. It made him tired, so very, very tired. He heard the sound of someone shouting in a commanding voice- the captain of the King’s guard? “Bar the doors! Nobody is to leave the palace until the culprits are found!”

It was getting harder to breath, and it took all his effort just to keep his eyes in focus. He blinked again, rolling his head back and forth. As he did he caught sight of the faces of those gathered around him. Priests, Kings, Dukes, and more, all looked on with horror and concern, except for one face. One was smiling.

Seinalan opened his mouth to accuse the figure, but was seized by a fit of racking, shuddering coughs. He lifted his hand instead- it was so heavy!- to point, but the smiling face turned and stepped back into the crowd.

Seinalan laid back, all his energy spent. He knew this was the end. His heart had slowed to almost nothing. He had no strength to move, to speak, even to breath. He looked up, past the people, to the light streaming through the stained glass window above. The light of Domi, beckoning him, telling him it was time to return home.

It was beautiful.

---

Day 1 begins! Patriarch Seinalan was killed by Jeskeri Cultists! It is up to you to find them and eliminate them!

If you have not done so recently, please go review the Rule Clarifications post- I have added a lot of things to it as people have been asking me questions- several of which deal with corner-case win conditions. And other things will likely be added to it as time goes on. If you have any further questions, please PM me and/or Tulir.

Day 1 will end in roughly 43 hours (apologies for the late start today), at 9:00pm on Sunday MDT.

Edited May 23, 2015 by Herowannabe

[Lightsworn Panda he/him]

So, I assume the Dula/s has/have made their couples?

[Kasimir he/him]

You wanted to see a palace, Kaian thought, glumly. The murder of the Shu-Korath Patriarch had taken all of them by surprise, and he'd just spent the past hour or so getting grilled by a palace guard. He'd carefully neglected to mention that he'd run away from a Shu-Dereth monastery and passed himself off as a simple traveller, off to see the world. For all that the Patriarch had been murdered by a Jeskeri Mystery cultist, Kaian knew that they wouldn't hesitate to hang the blame on an adherent of Shu-Dereth.
 
Even if he'd run away.
 
The ferret chattered at him. He'd never named it, he realised. He dug in his other pocket for some seeds and fed it. "We will see to it that your needs are taken care of," said a guard brusquely, to a noble's outrage. Kaian wondered if that extended to feeding his ferret.
 
He glanced across the room at where the other guests waited their turn for their interview with the guard. The captain of the King's Guard was nowhere to be seen. Kaian didn't know what he was up to. Maybe they were having collective hysterics about the Patriarch being killed under their watchful eye.
 
Could an assassin have done it?
 
He frowned. He hadn't been trained at Rathbore. They took only the very best. For all of that, though, he idly wondered if a Rathbore-trained assassin could've made such a kill.
 
A Jeskeri cultist did that, he reminded himself. The symbols were clear. They'd spoken about that in the monastery. Nothing to do with the ongoing holy war between the scions of Shu-Keseg.
 
The ferret chattered at him. "Sorry, friend," Kaian whispered, running his fingers through the silky fur. "I think we've got to save the seeds."
 
He'd wanted to see a palace. Look where that had gotten him.
 
-
 
Any particular reason why you're asking the obvious again, Jain? Pardon me, but the last time you did that overtly, you were an Eliminator in MR4. I have to confess that makes me wonder.

[Lightsworn Panda he/him]

Hah, you got me good there, govn'r    

 

In all seriousness, I just wanted a public clarification. Because of the words:

 

 

 

Dula: You love to play matchmaker. At the beginning of the game, before the first cycle starts, you must choose two players, who then immediately form a bond of love (platonic or romantic) that transcends death (See the lovers, below). 

 

I was expecting something like a "Pre-Game" Cycle for the Dula, but that doesn't seem to be the case.

 

Edit: Made my slightly complex humor more understandable. 

Edited May 23, 2015 by Lightsworn Panda

[Haelbarde he/him]

I guess I was expecting that the Dula's would have been the first players to have been contacted about their roles, so that they could give Hero their answer before the rest of the roles were sent out. 

 

 

Edrab had recieved an invitation to the Patriach's address. Maybe this'll be what I need to get over my Writer's Block. He wasn't convinced though. Still he, along with many others,  gathered in the King's Court. The time came, and the Patriach appeared.

 

"People of Kae, Domi be praised!” The began, his voice carrying well enough so that all could here him. “It is always a joy to my heart to see your faces and to be among you. But I fear the reason I have come is not a pleasant one. There is a darkness growing...”

 

The Patriach trailed off. He tried again. “A darkness, growing among you. The Jesker-”. This time he broke of with a gasp, jerking as his chest grew red. He slowly collapsed, and attendants and priests hurried to lend aid. Panic broke loose, but over top of the raucous, the chief guard's voice rang over, commanding the doors to be barred.

 

After the initial shock wore off, Edrab had a realization - this turn of events might be exactly what he had needed. There had been a murder, and the mystery and intrigue that was sure to follow would be the perfect subject for a new story. He got out his journal. He couldn't break straight into prose. It was neither the time nor the place for that. Better he keep a log of everything that happened, so that he could recount and then novelize the details at a later point. An added bonus would be that maybe his notes could help the investigation that was sure to follow. 

 

He turned to a new page. I need a title, I think. After a few moments, he thought of one he like - 'A Jeskeri Mystery'. He jotted it down, writing by it the day, and a brief summary of what had lead up to this point.  Now, to find us some cultists.

[Haelbarde he/him]

The way I see things is the Debtor's roll is not something we can't really manage. It's more about forcing them to vote (or not vote) when they'd really rather do the opposite. If they vote, and then it seems a tie is inevitable, it basically forces them to withdraw their vote and face the consequences. Alternatively, if they don't vote, and it ends up with a tie, they're basically forced to choose one of the tied votees and condemn them to death (and again, face the consequences).

[Haelbarde he/him]

Ah. And so we come to the 'do we lynch on first cycle', to which I would say, 'probably', but then the question is then 'who', and to that I say 'I have no idea'. 

[Kasimir he/him]

We're not going to get into a discussion about the distinction between a lynch discussion with an impending lynch, pure discussion, and a lynch itself. Not again. Right?

 

Edited because recalcitrant coding is recalcitrant.

Edited May 23, 2015 by Kasimir

[The Honey Badger he/him]

I think the debtor is a good mechanic, because it forces us to decide. (I don't mean good like "oh, I love this mechanic", I mean that it serves the GM's purposes.

The problem is, is that this early in the game. We don't know who the cultists are, and we don't want to lynch innocent people. 

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Hene Bata was increasingly distraught, who could he serve his, king appointed duty of being the assistant to the assistant elephant cleaner. He knew that the king would only trust a responsible and powerful noble such as him with such an important, vital task. But now that they were all catching cultists, how could he do his job? 'I know, he thought, I'll catch all the cultists and get back to work' He sat down on a pot and began to think, who did he know that had weird wind knives. He couldn't think of anybody. Aghhh, I must think harder.

 

Edit to Fix: spacing problems with the dashes, tricky little buggers

Edited May 23, 2015 by The Honey Badger

[Haelbarde he/him]

Edit to Fix: spacing problems with the dashes, tricky little buggers

 

Hint: Use the [ hr ] tag without the spaces to put in a straight line like in my post/sig.

[The Honey Badger he/him]

Thanks

[phattemer]

Well, I guess I agree with winter in that we do kinda need to lynch someone. I think there are multiple priests/warriors, so we can't go terribly wrong. Does anyone else think that one of the current Elantrians is probably a cultist? They could not be, but it seems to make sense to me.