Kasimir
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And, ladies and gentlespren, my usual run of SE betting luck continues unperturbed since 2014! I give this another happy 0/6, thank goodness I didn't bet ten emerald broams this time, eh?
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THE FINAL NIGHT They came for him. Duncan Kerr had not expected otherwise. The thought was strangely clinical; detached, almost. Since that first tour on Nebrask, he had been living on borrowed time. The rest of his squad had fallen. Rlint, Dig, Matt, Aaron Roddy, Tavi, Aaron… Rlint, the brave officer who should’ve stayed home. Nebrask was no place for a non-Rithmatist, but Rlint had done his duty all the same. He’d carried the acid buckets and watched the rest of the squad. Rlint, betrayed and murdered. Dig, crumpled and bleeding where the shovel had struck him on the head, in the last hole he would ever dig. Brave Tavi, who’d said little, but had still fought, and it’d been Duncan’s hands which held the chalk, which drew the Lines of Silencing. It had been Duncan who kept watch, that night Matt was knifed by Kessen. It had been Duncan who had believed, who had wanted… What had he wanted? Belonging, he supposed. He was lost: a young Rithmatist freshly graduated from the Academy and sent to the frontlines on Nebrask. He was alone. Wyatt had been a rock. He knew what to do; the squad deferred to him, except perhaps Matt. But Matt had been dead that first night, and the more Duncan turned the memories over in his head, examining them as though they were frozen in amber, the more he understood. Matt had been vocal. Matt had been a threat. And so Wyatt had removed him, to assume control of the squad. And Duncan had fallen in. What else would he have done? Matt had guided him, instructed him. Rlint had drank with him, some nights, as they held mugs of hot coffee against the chill of the incessant night rains. He took comfort from Dig’s presence. And Kessen had sparred with him, pitting his merciless quickness against the iron wall of Duncan’s defences. But more than anything, Wyatt had taken him in. He’d seen a lost young Rithmatist, so green you could smell the sap, and he’d mentored Duncan. He’d taught Duncan a few quick and dirty ways for putting up defences, on nights when the wild chalklings swarmed and the most you could do was to redraw the same brutally simple lines again and again, rather than any of the more elegant strategies they’d taught in the Academy. He’d taught Duncan to get to his feet, stamp about, and walk a little on late watches, so he didn’t fall asleep. He’d taught Duncan aggression in duels, and Duncan had leaned so much on Wyatt’s dry but sharp sense of humour. “Orders from the CO,” Wyatt had said. “Kingswright needs us to move against Dig tonight.” He was leaning on the doorframe. “Kessen, you good?” Kessen nodded. Tory was silent, but indicated his readiness. “Duncan?” He liked Dig. But they were all looking at him, expectantly. Something in Duncan folded. Orders from the CO, Wyatt had said. “Yeah,” he said. “I’m good.” Wyatt nodded, and some of the tension in the room seemed to relax, perceptibly. “Good man,” he said. “We’re doing what needs to be done. Enough men like you, and the chalklings will never breach this line until our replacements come.” ⤝⥁⤞ Kessen and Tory he had killed himself. Duncan did not think he regretted it. He’d snuck into the bunk, and then slit their throats in their sleep. Cold work, and he felt nothing as the blood spurted. They were already dead, he told himself. They were taken. Forgotten. But then he moved over to Wyatt, and he hesitated. Wyatt opened his eyes. Charcoal blackness. Wyatt smiled. ⤝⥁⤞ Disgraced. Fallen. Brother-killer. Duncan knelt with his back to the wall and began to sketch the outlines of the Blad Defence. It was less prepared than he’d wanted it to be. He hadn’t had enough time, having dashed out an intricate chalkling with a Line of Making and sent it to spy on Tria Noche. It was a hummingbird, the sort he’d seen once on Nebrask. It had been a clear morning, and the hummingbird was darting among the flowers. Chase had laughed when he’d pointed it out, and he couldn’t remember much of that day, but for the iridescent feathers of the hummingbird, pristine and untouched. Each feather seemed to glow in the various rainbow shades of the chalk, and he let out a long breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding as he set it free. The hummingbird flapped its wings and departed. He’d hesitated about that. Considered hiding again behind another Line of Forbiddance. If he used the time, he could make his defences as solid as an iron wall. Iron Duncan, they’d called him, back at the Academy, in his heyday. He was so far from the Academy now, and so very lost. And his hands were shaking and he badly, badly wanted a drink. Wouldn’t get one, though. Not until the night was over. “You knew this was coming,” Wyatt whispered. “I know,” Duncan said. “I know.” It was a good place to stand his ground, with his back to the wall. At least his back was secure, and the Blad Defence let him take advantage of the natural barrier. He adapted it to account for that, concentrating his defences forward and to the sides. “Risky,” Wyatt said. “I thought I taught you better than that.” Duncan smiled. It was the wan ghost of a smile. He ached too much to feel it. “You did,” he said. “I guess I’ve picked up some bad habits in the years.” Matt had taught him this one. It seemed fitting that Duncan fall back on what that man had taught him, this night. “Oh,” Duncan breathed, quietly, as the Forgotten came for him. He’d almost expected it. But he still felt the frisson of fear and surprise as Kaniae Moreau advanced on him, chalk in her hands. “You know better, Duncan,” Wyatt said, sounding like the instructor and the mentor had once been. He clucked his tongue in disappointment. “Fear clouds the mind. Focus, or you’ll be too busy dying.” Duncan took a deep breath and let it out. “I’ve been dying, anyway,” he said, shortly. “I’ve just been doing it the long way around.” He knelt and pressed his chalk to the earth and drew. He fought better: harder, quicker, more recklessly than he had in his life. And when the last of his defences were breached, and the wild chalklings swarmed him, Duncan thought he could see Wyatt looming over him, shaking his head. “Disappointing,” said the Forgotten. “I expected more from you.” ⤝⥁⤞ Duncan Kerr opened his eyes. The long grasses of Nebrask swayed in the gentle breeze, golden in the last of the light. The sky overhead was still a clear, bright blue, the sort that promised kind days and gentle nights, the kind to welcome home lost sons. And Duncan Kerr had been lost for a very long time. He blinked, and the pain was gone. So was the fear. And the tiredness. He looked at himself. His Rithmatist coat was cleaned, pressed, as though he had just left the barracks. His boots were worn, though, and his chalk was missing. What had happened? “You took your time,” said a voice, one Duncan had never expected to hear again. “Personally, I think it’s better this way.” Matt held out a hand to him. Duncan stared up at him, bewildered. It had been so long. It had been so long. He didn’t remember what it was like to live without that ache in his chest. Without the ever-present guilt. Without the shade of Wyatt, haunting him forever. Without the bloodstained knowledge of what he’d done on that first tour on Nebrask. Matt frowned down at him. “You do remember me, don’t you?” “Yeah, I just…” Duncan hesitated. “I just…” The Duncan he had been and the Duncan he was now collided and he couldn’t seem to pick his way between the two of them. “You held up well,” Matt said, and something in Duncan’s heart cracked, and he was both: the raw recruit who had looked up to Matt and Wyatt, and the old Nebrask veteran who wanted nothing more than to atone for the mistakes of the past. He was on his knees again. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, hoarsely. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I let them use me, and I did it, I stood watch, I drew the lines, and—” “You weren’t the only one taken in by Wyatt,” Matt said, and his firm hands closed on Duncan’s shoulders and drew him up to his feet. “Rlint was, too. He taught Wyatt the special lines he later passed on to you. Even Ronald believed him. And if not Wyatt, who would you have turned to? Kessen? Hardly any better.” Matt clapped Duncan on the back. “You held out well,” he repeated. “You helped them. They’ll find the last of the Forgotten, and they’ll make it out alive. A squad for a squad. Strange how these things work, don’t they?” Duncan squeezed his eyes tightly shut and could not speak. “Yeah,” he whispered, at last. “Strange.” The pain, the guilt, the shame, the trauma—he’d carried all of it for so long. It was a heavy stone weighted on his heart, and he did not know what to do with it. When he closed his eyes, he still saw Matt’s form, crumpled and bloodied. And when he opened them, the world blurred but Matt was alive. “Come on,” Matt said. “Time to go.” “Go?” “Time to fall in.” And then he saw them there, waiting at the edges of the field, where the swaying grasses gave way to the path to the barracks and the parade square. All of them, the old ones lost, and newer faces too, and Duncan struggled to draw breath. Rlint, Aaron, Tavi, Aaron Roddy, but also TJ, Wei, and Frederick. Frederick. His brother smiled at him and waved. The guilt was as a heavy stone. And for the first time in the long, painful march of the years, Duncan let it go. He set it aside and moved out from under it. He took in a single breath. And then another. Marvelled at it, at how it felt. At how breath turned to the lightness of being. He’d forgotten what it was like to live without the guilt. Without the pain. He was free. “Come on, brother!” he thought he could hear Frederick calling out to him, across the rolling fields of gold. Duncan laughed, and ran. Duncan Kerr had been lost for a very long time. He was coming home at long last. ⤝⥁⤞ finis
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Old man brain. I meant play Too burned out to play, too many things on my plate, but sure I can spec >>
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Actually, I wasn't going to scan you. I had considered putting in an order on Books, but eventually decided to go for Mist in the hopes discrepancies in Books's reporting would be cleared up by what we knew of the actions. Burnt's confusion just seemed too genuine to my gut to be Evil. Didn't turn out to matter, anyway. Or rather, it turned out okay I guess. I was paranoiding about Books because your reasoning on Books didn't seem quite right to me, so I was PMing Araris in the hopes that having been Evil with Books recently, he could help watch his former teammate. I remember. It was a good game by my standards - we RPed so intensively and I didn't break character even once. I should've paired up with you, but didn't. Oh well.
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So, another SE meme for you Credit to Wyrm for suggesting the edit. I also did up a Bohemian Rhapsody parody on Day 5 of Sart's LG73, when I was considering going for the gun. I knew it was a potentially suicidal and reckless move, but I felt so tired and I thought I knew what Alv's plan was, so I figured I'd give it a shot. Here's what Sart got from me, in my orders: I can neither confirm nor deny having actually sung it a few times despite having a singing voice that could kill trees (so yeah, we know who's not gonna be doing this for KKC) This is the one Elan and TJ were referring to in the dead doc, yeah.
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I'd be interested to spec, but I'm burned out from two intense games back to back and have my hands full. Sign me up for a spec doc?
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Thanks for running this game, Sart. It was fun, and I don't regret jumping in despite burnout from AG7. I had good memories from MR3 that I didn't want to disturb, and I'm happy to say I have some good ones from this game too I also appreciated Wyrm's permission to borrow Wyatt in order to play a traumatised veteran from first Nebrask, though I apologise for not RPing as much as I had initially planned, particularly with Striker. Was also fun joining Alv in a game again! Devo, it was a good game, and maybe someday things will align and we really will be on the same team (please, Village, please, Village...) Burnt, enjoyed our PM even if we were both kinda dead After this game - I'm glad I backed down on Araris, and feel a little regret for not listening to my gut on Striker, though my gut has betrayed me before (et tu, Wyrm?) and I've never dared to trust it since - I feel like I've got a better handle on identifying Village Araris now, since I've done that thrice. At the same time, I feel like saying this puts a target on my back in any game with Evil Araris, and also is just begging RNGesus to make me Evil with Araris some day Ah, well. Nice working with you again, Dark Bro And great working with you, Araris. I was joking in a few OOG DMs that you must be Evil since we seldom worked together without bickering in past SE games, much less applied the same reasoning on each other! I feel like this game on my part was a case in point of what Wyrm and I always say - dying isn't the problem. Dying meaningfully for your team is. I wouldn't say my death was pivotal but I think it helped give Araris a nudge in the necessary direction, which was good, since I might've mucked things up more while alive. The Laidback!Kas thing was a wash by N4 or N5, but to be fair, I'd expected to get NKed by that point because of my early votes on the Connie and TUO trains, so I figured I might as well go all out and help where I could, to try to leave the Village in a better position when I died. ...As that turned out, it took a while. Have some RP too that I'll probably drop if I have the time. Good game everyone, excellent job to Team Rithmatist, and you did well, Forgotten! Bamboozled me quite a few times. P.S. I got a chuckle over the 2 Chalk mystery - basically, I was preparing to set up LG74, and was in the middle of the work week from hell. The spreadsheet hasn't been updated on the inventory front at all, and I didn't track Gears' claims, and in retrospect, maybe I was better off not even showing the inventory column Edited to add: Oof. Nice working with you as well, @Archer I admit I paranoided about you the cycle I died in my PM with Araris, but glad to see we were still the same team after all.
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This guy gets it
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You called, I came. Words of Radiance through to basically any Stormlight book after WoK excluding Dawnshard.
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Edited to add: Hi all, I'd like to draw your attention to a slight erratum in the rules, with my apologies. As OG Tyrian rules usually begins on N0, the original version of the rules says that Mistborn will be told which ability they have at the beginning of each night. This isn't very workable in this game, due to LG74 beginning on D1 instead. I have corrected this erratum in order for the game to function as intended, and nothing significant should hinge on this. I have gone over the rest of the rules again, and they check out
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Yes, they do Reference to the amount of times the word 'copper' showed up, yes, as well as a hint that the actual killer of Talbot Oswin was hidden in plain sight... Just like how Copperclouds obscure what's going on even under your nose
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Old man brain, sorry It's been fixed. I do take death requests, but I generally don't take death RP as I already have write-ups handled. That being said, I have some plans I'm working out and that I need to talk to the IM over as I believe players should get to receive upvote credit for their own death RPs, too.
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You're not wrong that the Steel Alphabet symbols are significant, just as the Steel Alphabet symbol in MR43 had meaning. But you're not quite going about it the right way Fair disclaimer: I'm of the GMing school of Wyrm, or at least, he's my Shardtwin, so there's always a lot of ref drops and plot humming beneath the surface of the write-ups. It's great for players who enjoy easter eggs, and who like stronger RP settings to work off, and in my view, can easily be ignored by players who just want to play the game and ignore the bells and whistles. (This also has the advantage of letting me not have to do so many death write-ups this time, which honestly can get boring after you've GMed enough games, and I haven't even done as many as he has ) I've been seeding hints for what is to come, but they can all be safely ignored as they're flavour/plot related and won't affect what the Village or Spiked do, though I do have plans there... Also, welcome aboard to everyone who has signed up! Do remember to check the rules and think about your character's dirty secret/skeleton in the closet. I'm dead serious when I say I will make one up if I don't get one, and remember, you're talking to the GM who invented the Duck Wrangler cosmetic role here Great to see we're getting a good-sized group, and shoutout to @Biplet for that fun RP! I was going to invent a tavern if no one would sign up as a tavern keeper, so I'm glad to see you're taking on the responsibility of keeping the Village pacified drunk and happy I am also pretty much interested in what's going to happen when @_Stick_ and @Araris Valerian meet, to be fair, and I've heard certain fun plans from players already, so this is going to be fun to watch
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As long as there is a single living Tineye, or a Mistborn has Tin for the cycle, any number or kind of PMs can be created. (I'm probably gonna regret saying this since I know what some of you are like about PMs, but Tyrian rules are Tyrian rules ) Only limit is that the GM and IM have to be included, and if I tell you the PMs are closed (e.g. because Mistborn drew a different metal), then you need to stop talking in them. That should be one very interesting vote train
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I seem to recall LG7 grabbing quite a few players out the gate, but I could be biased there RP, read the rules, ask rule clarifications, think of what dirty secret/skeleton in your character's closet you will be sending me D1, go live your lives, eat an apple... Many options! I've GMed 30 players before so I don't anticipate too much trouble, as this game is substantially easier to manage than MR7 And I have Wyrm on speed-dial... Also, new rule clarification I've been asked: Do Smokers get to send in an action every Turn? No. Only at Night. This does mean that the Smokers will enter this game with an involuntary switched on Coppercloud D1 - in usual OG Tyrian, the game begins N0 so they could choose to switch it off then. But the Committee was concerned that it might be rough for a player to get NKed without even getting to play the game, and I agree with that assessment, so we are beginning on a Day. As a result, sorry to the Smokers, but your first chance to send in an order on Smoking will be N1. Please do note I will also be summarising all rule clarifications in the post right after the write-up, so if you think I've said something but can't find it in thread, check that local cache for the Turn. (And please don't post until I've secured the clarifications slot, thanks )
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1. The only correct answer to an or-question is - yes More helpfully, the Thug can survive an interrogation interview, yes. This is because it is a passive ability. 2. Yes. 3. I like how you're already preparing for potentially being in a doc I mean, if you bold a whole paragraph of text, nothing will jump out at me, aye? My general rule is: @ me, bold my name (if in a doc), bold at least part of the first question, and demarcate the rest clearly. If I can't see it, I can't answer it in a reasonably fast time, that's all. I'm sure you all will ask me again if I don't answer because I missed it, but this isn't a 'I will whack y'all if you don't follow it' rule, this is a 'please help me make my life and your lives by extension easier' kind of rule, so just be sensible about it. What you did here is good enough for me.
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Maili's ref-dropping The very first Tyrian Falls game, also the first SE game ever.
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This in general. Ash is right about the biggest issue being making sure everyone is in the right doc. Speed I would say is less important than being correct, since it's very hard to undo that. MR7 had four faction docs, three of which had to be changed every cycle, and to boot, I needed to lock the docs to Google Accounts so I had to invite the correct players each cycle, which got more fiddly. It's more tiresome than anything, but it depends on how many you want to do. Having a co-GM would definitely help.
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And now my first GM returns to me, to be GMed. Truly, the circle has closed Glad to have you back, Maili! One rule clarification question I have received: Does the Seeker scan both role and alignment? Yes. Yes, they do. I'll also like to highlight something I've forgotten to add (old man brain sorry) - When the game begins, I will send you your role information in the GM PM (as usual.) I will also make a request for you to PM me a dirty secret or a skeleton in your character's closet. This can be played straight, or for laughs. Players who do not send me one will be at the mercy of my whims and fancies when inventing one This has no mechanical effect and is purely for flavour. I will also proactively clarify this as it led to confusion in previous Tyrian Falls games, and I don't have a significant crowd of Tyrian Falls veterans here. You may notice the text for Smokers indicates Smokers have to choose to switch off their Copperclouds. Smokers begin the game with their Coppercloud on. You can do three things: 1. Keep your cloud on and Smoke someone else (you would need to send in an order for this) 2. Switch off your cloud (you will also need to send in an order for this) 3. Keep yourself Smoked (in which case you need not send in an order.)
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I am happy for players to create their own cosmetic roles, or not at all if they're not interested in RPing. Also, noted with thanks.
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Both this RP and the fact you signed up as an unholy conglomeration of Ren and your usual AG self is killing me
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I'm happy for there to be overlap, frankly. I tend to be very RP oriented as a GM, so my point of cosmetic roles is to give players a chance to make some RP commitments/go wild. I'll put you down as both. WELCOME BACK!
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I'm too tired to do the exact maths, but in general, my night/midnight translates to early morning for the Stateside folks, and you guys are the better part of a day behind, so Friday morning sounds about right.
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You always forget something.... >> Edited in, but basically sign-ups close next Friday, 2300hrs SGT (GMT +8.) Then I aim to get things started by midnight my time
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