Mid-Range Game 7: Eighty Splendid Suns

[Bort]

That's still up for discussion.

 

My current choice would be Pixie, as the possible last Glory infiltrator.

[Seonid]

Let's see. Our biggest suspicion is paranoid king right now, as we gave pixie the rememberered striker role last cycle and she hit clanky with it.

That cycle is actually bothering me. There should have been two kills each on clanky and haelbarde. Your striker, our Striker, neo's kill, and the remembered striker kill.

Kipper roleblocks your striker kill. Fine. So clanky should live and haelbarde die. But haelbarde lives. So who blocked the kill? You said that Joe didn't roleblock anyone, to avoid accidentally doing just this.

So did the moderation reseller try to protect a discoverer?

We'd ask orlock, but he hasn't been on.

Actually, ask Araris what moderation was doing last round, and if clanky and haelbarde actually did conf out as discoverers

[Kipper]

What was the distrubition of kills among the four roles? If Pixie really is Discovery, she would have no motivation to use the kill. Do you have a way to confirm that she actually did it? And who was Bort going for? If they were going for opposite people, and Pixie is Discovery (assumption), there should be no conflict.

[Haelbarde]

In all seriousness, the last striker should take out the other striker, to put yourself ahead in the Heritage-Glory war.

[Kipper]

That's exactly what I was thinking. I wonder which one will betray the other first, especially now that Bort is publically known. I would do it in a heartbeat o.O

But what they were probably going to do is try to bribe the other Striker over and hope that the other faction doesn't think about it as a possibility. What would be REALLY fun is if Heritage takes out Glory's, then gets theirs bribed over, or vice versa.

I guess they'll just have to both betray each other...

[Haelbarde]

So Glory, might want your Teullu warrior protecting Bort

[dowanx]

Bort, Heritage doesn't suspect Pixie at all.  She personally role claimed to me and her actions have done a lot to hurt discovery.  The main action that comes to mind is her attacking a Discovery member.  She has done other things like help plot out who the remaining discovery are which has been very helpful.

[Seonid]

Kipper, pixie claimed to have hit clanky, whom bort Also claims to have targeted. So, assuming the three of you are betting honest about clanky not being in the doc anymore, if pixie is discovery, then you didn't roleblock the right person or you aren't a bloodsealer.

[Bort]

Let's see. Our biggest suspicion is paranoid king right now, as we gave pixie the rememberered striker role last cycle and she hit clanky with it.

That cycle is actually bothering me. There should have been two kills each on clanky and haelbarde. Your striker, our Striker, neo's kill, and the remembered striker kill.

Kipper roleblocks your striker kill. Fine. So clanky should live and haelbarde die. But haelbarde lives. So who blocked the kill? You said that Joe didn't roleblock anyone, to avoid accidentally doing just this.

So did the moderation reseller try to protect a discoverer?

We'd ask orlock, but he hasn't been on.

Actually, ask Araris what moderation was doing last round, and if clanky and haelbarde actually did conf out as discoverers

 

Joe's exact words were 'I'm not going to roleblock tonight', and he had been asked to role block Kipper. When I asked him why not, I didn't get an answer.

 

What was the distrubition of kills among the four roles? If Pixie really is Discovery, she would have no motivation to use the kill. Do you have a way to confirm that she actually did it? And who was Bort going for? If they were going for opposite people, and Pixie is Discovery (assumption), there should be no conflict.

 

The only one I can be sure of is my target. I went after Clanky, following Seonid's comment about trying to double stack the kills to take them out in one cycle. Originally, I was going to hit Kipper, but Seonid changed my mind.

 

Bort, Heritage doesn't suspect Pixie at all.  She personally role claimed to me and her actions have done a lot to hurt discovery.  The main action that comes to mind is her attacking a Discovery member.  She has done other things like help plot out who the remaining discovery are which has been very helpful.

 

Ok, thanks. Then, if not Pixie, who else do you suspect? PK's claimed role is the easiest to hide behind. BB's less so, but still possible. Zas, I think we've confirmed, although the cycle we tried to lynch him, it is entirely possible there were vote shenanigans which would make him look like one role, but in reality, he could potentially be Discovery. I'll admit, I don't believe it, but it is possible.

 

What about suspicions from within Heritage?

 

So far as I can tell, Seonid has at least partially cleared Dowanx and Zephrer. At least, you seemed to imply they could be trusted. Am I right?

 

This leaves Phattemer and Alvron as the Discovery members of Heritage. How does this sound to the people in Heritage?

[Haelbarde]

What about suspicions from within Heritage?

 

So far as I can tell, Seonid has at least partially cleared Dowanx and Zephrer. At least, you seemed to imply they could be trusted. Am I right?

 

This leaves Phattemer and Alvron as the Discovery members of Heritage. How does this sound to the people in Heritage?

Hmm.. Sound fairly reasonable. Not convinced though...

[Bort]

Hmm.. Sound fairly reasonable. Not convinced though...

 

That's alright. I'm not either. That's why I opened it up to everyone else.

 

Edit: Well, today has been underwhelming.

 

Seonid, it is unlikely I'll have an answer about Moderation's actions, as Araris came into our doc yesterday, demanded to know why we had recruited him, and hasn't been heard from since - I'm willing to bet he hasn't seen my post in the thread, or my lines in the doc, about reuniting you two before the game ends.

 

Also, Shallan does not seem to have put in an appearance (not even to claim her colour), BB has limited himself to, pretty much a single comment saying he would join our lynch and bribe votes, and PK has had a few lines yesterday, and a couple of lines last night - None were particularly helpful. Joe and Zas have both been minorly active, but still not by much.

Edited July 9, 2015 by Bort

[Kipper]

Seonid, that's exactly what I'm saying. If Pixie IS A DISCOVERER, she would claim to do the kill but not actually do it.

[Bort]

But someone did hit Clanky last cycle. If it wasn't me, and Pixie was the only other person going for him, then that suggests it was Pixie.

 

Of course, the argument could be made that she was just trying to keep herself safe, and did what she was asked to do to keep her cover intact.

 

Edit:

That's so unfair Kipper. You survived your first SE game??? This is my seventh, and I'm expecting to die again.

Edited July 9, 2015 by Bort

[Haelbarde]

Seeing as it's highly probably this will become public knowledge in the next hour, might as well come out with it...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I'm part of the Reform Faction. Yup. This is now (and has truly always been) a five faction game. My objective was to see Kwai dead, Kwai using the identities of one of the players as a cover to sow mistrust and bring the empire down. My thing I got to do was scan for Kwai, as I need him dead to win. Finally found them, but too late, cos now I'm dying this round, and y'all think I'm discovery. So well done hiding, Pixie. 

 

See y'all on the other side now. o/

[Pixie]

Bort the rememberer in our group has never stepped forward to role reveal. Our group had no idea I was given a role or what that role was. I could of kept it secret for selfish reasons and used it on a non-discoverer, but stepped forward to share it with the group because I wanted their input on who to hit.

Edit: I am not discovery. Have Shallan scan me and it'll prove it to you.

Edited July 9, 2015 by Pixie

[Haelbarde]

Oh, I don't scan for discovery, I scan to find Kwai, and he's not necessarily in Discovery. I get back a yes or no result. Scanned Dow, Alvron, Adamir, then you. Got negatives on the first three, but a positive on you. 

[Bort]

Ok, well, since Dow has vouched for Pixie, and since I've not heard anything from Heritage about the names I put forward, I'll be selecting one of the names in that post that I consider to be most suspicious, so it is basically a toss up between Phattemer and Alvron.

[Kasimir]

Yes, I know I'm late. Sorry about that. Got caught up with RL. I'll try to have the docs closed and the write-up up ASAP, then deal with the PMs. Just uh, cool your jets or something, Chief!

 

Cycle is now closed, ICYMI.

[Bort]

ICYMI?

[Haelbarde]

In Case You Missed It, I'm presuming.

[Bort]

Ah. That makes sense.

[Kasimir]

MR7: Cycle Six - The Edge of Discord

Kwai studied the mural beginning to take shape before him, in the light of the hanging lantern. It wasn’t quite right, he thought. He’d only begun to fill in most of the details, and he’d spent the previous night painting in an artistic frenzy.

Inspiration, he might have called it, if not for the feeling he was being driven by something deeper. Something that mattered.

It was justice, of a sort, perhaps. Just as it was justice that he would be known for killing an Emperor, not for the transcendent beauty of his verses, nor for the sublime quality of his paintings.

He did regret that last painting. He regretted many things.

There was Cang Lu, drinking tea calmly in the pavillion. A touch of jade in his cup, for depth, another shadow to his eyes, to make it appear as though he was gazing serenely into the tea leaves in his cup. A heron wading in the clear pond, untouched now, by the mud of the world.

A splash of emerald for the Green Xienbei; the hilt of a sword peeked out from behind his cloth coat. Both hands rested on the wooden railing—he gazed out into the distance, but there was the hint of restlessness in the painting, a sense of pent-up motion.

Stillness and dynamism: the two anchors to the different ends of the painting.

And there was last night’s addition: a man, dark-haired, with clear, light eyes. Different from Cang Lu as the night was from the day. Kneeling, that had been his first thought. But no. It was inappropriate. Instead, here, he stood, apart from the others, near the very centre of the mural but not quite. He held himself erect, head proud and kingly, leaning on a large sword, lovingly detailed. Touches of blue paint around the edges gave it a faint sheen. The figure leaned on the sword—ground the point against the barren earth.

The eyes, though. He hadn’t quite decided. Perhaps they should be closed, against the darkness of the world. Or perhaps they should be open; challenging the viewer.

Difficult, when he hadn’t quite grasped the feel of the man.

The creak of the cellar step announced the visitor. “Coming to see what I’ve done?” Kwai asked.

“You’ve been busy,” Wenshon acknowledged. “And I was curious.” He descended the last few steps, and drew level with Kwai, and then fell silent.

“It’s incomplete,” Kwai said, quietly.

“The colours, though,” Wenshon breathed, transfixed. He held out a hand—tentatively—almost as if he wanted to touch the painting, and carefully drew it back. “It’s still wet, isn’t it?”

“I just applied a layer of fresh paint,” Kwai agreed.

He could not have said what drove him to paint this mural depicting the patrons of the Frozen Moon. Their fates flashed in his mind: Cang Lu vanished; murdered, they said, no doubt at the behest of Arbiter Urskevan of the Glory Faction. The rambunctious pirate, Hreo, killed by several crossbow-wielding Strikers at once. Wai ZhierSen, murdered by Strikers. Waimin, assassinated, lying in a pool of his own blood in the Golden Mean.

We are all subjects of art, he thought. From the highest king to the lowest peasant.

He must’ve said that aloud, for Wenshon snorted. “Peasants don’t interest buyers are much,” he pointed out, pragmatically.

“This isn’t for sale,” Kwai said. “This is art as it should be: the responsibility of the artist, the creation demanding to be let into the world, distilled through the crucible of inspiration and need.” He shook his head. “What’s the word on the Rose Palace?”

Wenshon shrugged. “The Factions are about to exterminate Discovery,” he said, acceding to the change of topic. “Their Arbiter is protesting, of course; disowning the scholars as a splinter group. They won’t be raised to the Rose Throne anytime soon, but it was always a long shot, anyhow. Moderation’s all but given up: Arbiter Renzu’s nowhere to be found. It’s really Heritage that’s leading the push for the Throne.”

“Frava,” Kwai said, the word both a sigh and a curse.

“Arbiter Frava’s ambitious,” Wenshon agreed. “But everyone already knew that. I’d say she’s already won; Urskevan just doesn’t want to admit it.”

“What?”

“A spymaster’s got to keep some secrets, wouldn’t you say?” He returned to studying the painting. “And that was the nomad who got killed the other day for desertion. Bad business, that.” He was pointing to the Green Xienbei.

Kwai nodded. “He tipped well.”

Wenshon laughed. “Of course you would remember that.”

“Among other things.”

Wenshon said, “Well. There’s one thing you should know. Word’s come from the Rose Palace.”

“Gamman, isn’t it? I suppose he’s taken over Reform completely.”

“Yes,” Wenshon agreed, mildly. “With Kaleva’s death, there was no one to check Gamman’s ambition.”

“What would you have me do?” Kwai said, wearily. “It’s done. They’re long in their graves. I’m an artist, now, not an assassin.”

“Sometimes,” Wenshon said, “The future is a work of art; born in blood and pain and a dagger’s blade. Wouldn’t you say?”

Kwai thought of the blood, of the slaughter in the streets, of the man who lay dying in a pool of his own blood, the nomad cut down for desertion, the vanished Cang Lu and said, “I don’t see anything worth saving.”

Wenshon said, more gently, “I know.”

Kwai picked up his brush again, traced a streak of vermillion through the air. Blood, he thought, with more blood to come. Or the first flowers of autumn.

The cold was in the air, now.

 

 

The cold days were arriving.

It had been a day for many regrets.

Ableah Edr massaged the tension out of his cramping shoulder, as much as he could. His departure from the Moderation Faction had been, for all things, less than cordial, and he quietly regretted that things had not worked out. He shook his head, tiredly. Faction politics made less sense, the more he looked at it.

Moonlight, through the open window.

There was a poet of the Empire, once, who had written verses to break the heart about the moonlight—silver frost on the ground—and memories of home.

Ableah thought about him now, and many other things, but mostly, of departed friends.

“You’ve gone all quiet again,” said the voice.

He stood up, walked over, and picked up the halberd from where it rested against the wall. Discord grumbled, “Oh, sure, ignore me. Keep ignoring me. What’re you going to do without me? Oh hey, I’m not even getting paid for this, am I? What if I told you I had secret powers that I’d let you in on if I got paid?”

“Is this a question or a statement?” Ableah wanted to know. He moved into the Middle-Even stance, the most balanced of them all. The red tassel beneath the protruding crescent blade bobbed with the movement. He flipped the halberd about and thrust, extending out and stretching.

“Yes,” Discord said. That was always her answer to ‘or’-questions, Ableah thought. Then again, it was difficult to expect anything different from a halberd—the typical weapon wielded by infantry and occasionally, cavalry in the Rose Empire—that had been Awakened with the command ‘Troll people.’ Privately, Ableah considered the cousin on Nalthis who’d first experimented with Discord to have been a rather twisted individual.

“Are you expecting trouble?”

“Yes.”

“Would you like to know if there were soldiers at the door?”

Ableah whipped Discord through a swift sequence, windmilling the shaft of the halberd in a series of fast strokes designed to repel a sword-wielding attacker, and then a disarming thrust. “Yes.”

“Ableah, you’re not being very entertaining tonight.”

“You always say that.”

“You’re no fun! That’s why!”

There came a crash from the door, followed by a few screams. Ableah smiled, and continued the sequence, shifting from Middle-Even to the Control-Spear stance, Discord’s point thrust low. Control-Spear positioned an infantryman to respond swiftly to a foe wielding a polearm. Of course, most Strikers eschewed polearms, preferring the slender sword—the gentleman of weapons, some pugilists had named it. Others preferred the curving, broad-bladed butcher’s sword. Against either of these, Discord had the advantage.

“Ableah?”

A second series of screams. So the Strikers had decided to come in force. The first set, Ableah thought, would’ve been from the tripwire. The second set would’ve been those who’d disturbed the acid.

He smiled. He hadn’t the slightest intention of going down easily.

“Ableah, you’re ignoring me.”

“Yes.”

“I troll people,” Discord said. “I do not get trolled.”

“Yes.”

“Ableah, you can be such a pain.”

He sighed, whipped Discord about in a lightning-fast spinning strike meant to wrench the weapon from an attacker’s hand. Then about whirled the shaft of the halberd, smacking the intruder in the shin, flinging them to the ground, or at least staggering them, before they took the point of the halberd in the throat.

Two Strikers stormed into the room. The one in the lead was bleeding; his boots were smoking as the acid ate away at his boots. The one bringing up the rear was limping, and struggling with an Awakened scarf that had wrapped itself tightly around his neck. His eyes were bulging and he was whimpering.

“I didn’t think that’d actually work,” Discord commented, surprised.

Ableah met the onrushing swing of the sword blade, hooking the sword behind the crescent blade of Discord—just where crescent met the jutting spear-point—and then he jerked, yanking the sword from the man’s hand. He twirled Discord about negligently, smacking the Striker in the head with the shaft of the halberd.

“Bet you thought I’d hit you,” Discord taunted the fallen guard. “Sorry, no!”

He transitioned to the reverse Pierce-Sleeve stance and stabbed the fallen guard in the throat. His counterpart was gurgling and had dropped to the floor, helpless. Ableah considered him for a moment and then left him to die.

Two more Strikers burst in. He’d run out of traps, then.

Ableah shifted to Hanging-Sword stance; an open stance, inviting attack. The two of them glanced at their compatriots on the ground and then carefully advanced on him. The braver of the two led the way; a simple, measured swing, testing out his defenses. A flex of his wrists levered the halberd slightly, enough to tap the sword out of his way.

He smiled at them and waited.

“Oh, Ableah?”

“Hmm?”

“I just thought I’d tell you,” Discord said, cheerfully. “There are soldiers here.”

He sighed. “Yes, I know.”

“Also,” Discord informed the two Strikers, “Would you like some apples? I have apples. For the best swordsman.”

The Strikers ignored Discord and advanced on him, attempting to flank him. He allowed the first to attack, hooked into the sweep of the butcher’s sword, and then whirled about and shifted to Group-Sweep stance, dumping the first on his back. But the second was already upon him, trying to press him. Numbers were of some help to the swordsman when dealing with a polearm-wielder.

Ableah smashed him in the ribs with the butt end of Discord and whipped about to intercept another blow from the first Striker, who had regained his feet.

He took a step back, moved—just for a moment, in front of the open window.

“Ableah?”

The first bolt that smashed into his back took him by surprise. The second did not. By the time the third and fourth and fifth crossbow bolts slammed into him in a welter of pain and blood, the world had begun to go dark at the edges.

The window was open, he remembered.

He’d forgotten.

Discord slipped from his fingers, clattering to the floor.

“I did tell you so,” Discord muttered.

There was no response. There never would be.

---

Ableah Edr was a Reform Spy!
Lolnope he was a Blasphemous Scholar.
Cycle Six begins now and will end in 48 hours, on 11th July, at 11PM SGT [=GMT+8].

Edited July 5, 2021 by Kasimir

[Elithanathile]

I may have missed something, but I don't recall ever seeing anything about reform spies. What do they do? Have they always been a part of the game? Also, Liking Discord. Would like to see more.

[Bort]

Well, that was an unexpected result. Brilliant write up though, Kas. I do have to wonder though, with all of the random trolling that goes on in a game like this (look at Wyrm last cycle, for example), how sensible is it to have hidden factions that no-one knows about?

 

I'm sure I'm not the only one who looked at Hael's post on the last page of the last cycle's thread and instantly dismissed it as trolling. Had we not, he may have even survived a little longer.

 

Never mind... GM trolled me badly.

 

Also, Heritage, are you missing Alvron?

 

Edit: Braize you, Kas, braize you to, erm... Braize!!!

Edited July 9, 2015 by Bort

[phattemer]

Wut. Yes, there were no original Reform Spies, but everyone knows Kasimir is a troll GM. Heh heh. Highlight it.