Eolhondras

I hate to participate in the critiquing of an interesting idea, but for my mind, the flaws are to numerous for Aonar's plan to be a viable option. For one, we would only cut the eliminator kills by one. If it was a total fix, I might find it more agreeable, but this way you've essentially capped yourself at 5 cycles, (-1 for Odium/-2 for Honour saves) perhaps 6 or 7 with allied lifeless, until most of our safe roles are dead. It also means that Hoid essentially becomes useless unless by some fluke he/she's invested by a couple of shards before they inevitably die. In my head Hoid is one of our most valuable roles, and I don't want to throw him out just yet. Then we get into the fact that the numbers above are based on the assumption that Odium is pinned the same day we begin the plan. What happens, for example, we have two inactives. Then the champions aren't just going to sit quietly and watch so two Endowments come forward with different lists of shards. Then 12 people come forward as shards. Basically what I'm saying is sure, you can troubleshoot and eventually get things down to who is who through role proving and so on, but how much time will be wasted in the process? Time=Kills. Like I said, I'm all for original ideas, but this one just seems like a bit of a hail mary. Edit: Erghbbbbbb

Gramps. A poke circle huh? No comment. And safe roles unless I am awfully mistaken, mean they are on the 'village side'. In other words, a Shard cannot be one of Odiums followers.

A couple of ideas for the start of the game, while the rules are fresh in my mind. - Shards, don’t be shy with your investitures. Since shards are safe roles, if you get the, “Your Target cannot receive Investiture.”message, you’ll know that that person has a 7/8 chance of being good. That might be particularly useful for Cultivation. - Same goes for any Awakeners. - I’m entertaining the thought of Ruin not killing anyone, and having any Bloodsealers try and catch Odium, but it’s a bit of a shot in the dark (not to mention a game wrecker). Other than that I'm at a loss for where to start, but since we are on a day turn, and there is a distinct lack of a Wyrm, Gramps. Penny for your thoughts? Edit: Format disaster.

Eolkin, a penniless beggar from the slums of T'Telir is in.

You're absolutely right, IF Ostrich is a Villager. If not the move makes complete sense, as the village has to waste another day lynching Ostrich while they still get their night kill. Therefore, overall the spiked come out a kill ahead then if they had done nothing. In relation to the vote manipulation, of the 14 people that didn't vote, only Joe, Dom, Jasnah and Macen have been inactive, (I'm including Joe because of what he said about his homepage situation.) leaving 10. The reason I counted was because I expected a lot more people to be inactive due to their silence in the thread, and was hoping to narrow this list down significantly. All I have got out of it is frustration really, at the five or six who have been silent for 3-4 cycles.

Ah sorry, I had it in my head that you needed to have an active vote in play in order to riot someone else's.

A rioted vote requires the rioters vote to be cancelled, so how can we have two changes and only one cancellation?

Jasnah, you said in the signups that you weren't going to be inactive, yet here we are. Silence got you a fair way through MR4 as a spy so perhaps after the success there you are trying the same thing here as a spiked? Agreed Wyrm, we need more people voting, and we need more people talking. Ostrich, who would you have preferred to die on day one? And speaking of good reasons, you still haven't given any, regardless, of value, for your vote on me. Even after being prompted at least twice. Edit: Blue Should have realised he hasn't been on since the 28th.

By my count, out of the 27 people alive before the end of the cycle, 15 of those were pro lynch, either through being vocal in the need for one or actions in having a vote on someone at the end of the day. These people I have deduced to be: Kas, Mailli, Wyrm, Ostrich, Ren, Ash, Araris, Mek, Wilson, Satrams, Sarcomere, Weiry, Myself, Domanx and Odustren. (Please let me know if I am wrong.) The fence sitters, either I have read them to be unsure, or simply hadn’t offered enough information to make a judgment. Claincey, Winter, Baron Phifferdishablishapplenisobsorbs, Senn, Newan, Jain, Joe, Jasnah, Dam, Macen, Peng. And the only person vocally against the idea of lynching, Hero. Now, not only is 15 the majority out of the 27 people alive. It is a staggering majority over those who were opposed. In response to why I voted for Satrams, I would start by saying that had this situation occurred at the start of the cycle, my vote would have gone onto Ostrich. This being because of the vote he placed on me due to “suspicions” but then failed to elaborate, despite prompts. I would still like an explanation. By group consensus, it is clear that a lynch needed to happen. Of the four options, Satrams, Hero, Ash and Kas, I echo Wilsons statement about not wanting to see Kas go just yet and I have some tentative links on Ash which I would like to see play out. That leaves Hero and Satrams. Satrams I viewed to be the most suspicious in his actions, for reasons I laid out in my post yesterday. If you’d allow me, I’d like to come back to my list of people advocating for a lynch. My vote here is no more powerful than any one of yours, and while people are saying a lynch is necessary, nobody wants to make a call. I can understand the questions on why satrams, but the one comment that does bug me is that coming from Ash. Having agreed on a lynch but didn’t want to “pull the trigger” based on conscious reasons, your immediate condemnation of the person who does make the call, labelling it an eliminator strategy, is frustrating to say the least. Edit: Blue

As it stands then, we have 4 people each on 2 votes. Ash, Hero, Kas and Sart. Of those I find Sart to be the most suspicious. Saying that Kas had been active in the thread but inactive in the voting is simply wrong. He opened with a vote on Hero, and then followed it up with him about his suspicion in various posts. His activity then, is an extension on his voting early in the cycle. You also talk about him voting for himself as a method for gaining trust amongst the village, when other players have been doing exactly the same thing. Hero saying he is definitely a villager, Wilson giving reasons to trust herself and Claincey in certain PM’s. Myself with an open explanation of my actions. I could go on and on, but my point is, this game is an exercise in buying trust. The fact that you find that an appropriate reason to “move straight to voting for kassad”, I find suspicious. I agree that we need a lynch to gain information and move forward in this game, so because of that and my suspicions of Sart, I will be placing my vote there.

I just a look, I got a reply from Ash at roughly 4am this morning, which is 12 noon EST so I'm guessing that's just when he looked at it. Not completely sure, but I think that's just miscommunication.

Paranoia defined as: An unfounded or distrust of others. I don't begrudge your suspicion, but I would simply highlight that anything can be seen Spiked plotting if looked at in the right light. I had not counted on so much thread attention being brought to this so soon and so I would have a bit more time before the magnitude of my actions was well known. Obviously that was not a good assumption, but then hindsight is a killer. That said, anything anyone says is an indication of their character. Short replies may not give me a wealth of knowledge about someone but they might provide a starting point. And how do you know if some of the others weren't more forthcoming? Understanding people is a never ending pursuit with no definite answers, but anything and everything helps so I will continue to pursue it. This is a learning experience, so thankyou for the advice. Again, in hindsight perhaps a bit more thought was warranted.

Wouldn't have worked as well, as its not as important. Also the messages after the night cycle gave me plausibility to have connected message to player and hence player to role. This takes away part of the 'trolling' aspect, and so I am more likely to receive a serious answer. Edit, Internet seems to be playing up. I'm sure a Mod would be kind enough to remove the double post?

First, the facts. Players contacted: - Lord Pifferdoo - Joe - Mailli - mckeedee123 - Winter Cloud - Peng - Seonid - dominic1994 - Jain - Ash - Newan - Jasnah - ostrichofevil - Sart - Unodus - Weiry - Macen All messages were sent between 9:11 pm and 9:22 pm AEST. Anyone who says otherwise is lying. Players not contacted: - Kas, Wilson, Ren, Hero, Claincey, Wyrm I find you all incredibly intimidating and did not want to butt heads one on one. - Arais, dowanx and sarcomere I think may all be spelt incorrectly on my list, and I couldn’t find them in messenger. As to why I did what I did. It’s no secret that a lot of value is placed on peoples past behaviours, habits and their general game styles, and this becomes a big advantage to the more experienced players who have been playing with each other for some time. What I did, and I loath to call it trolling or phishing, was more an experiment. I wanted to see how people would react to edgy or sensitive stimulus, and what would be more sensitive than an accusation about roles. In doing so I could gauge them as a player, and continue profiling people and lessen the gap between more experienced players and myself, as a newer member. It has already been pointed out that expecting to ferret out a tineye or any other pertinent information would be foolhardy, and I completely agree. I no way do I trust or plan to act on acting upon any information in the replies to my experiment, as I respect anyone who plays this game far too much to believe that they would give me anything usable. However the tone and the wording or any other indications I can find about someone’s personality will go down in my notes and I hope, help me later on. Perhaps some may see my actions as foolish, suspicious or erratic, and if I die for doing something outside the expected, then so be it. Any questions please ask away. On a side note, Assuming 3 tineyes is a large amount, and that one may be a mistborn, I think it would be pertinent to try and track the mistborn use of abilities, given Meta's method for determining which power they get, and how that makes it slightly more unlikely that they will have the same one twice in at least a few cycles.

I'd like to apologise for my tardiness in terms of replying to the ongoing events here. While this has all unfolded I have either been asleep or at work. As has been noted, I have been online for brief periods though out the day, and I have been a pretty terrible employee as a result. Every time I had a spare second, I would take a look at the forum, just enough to keep up with what's happening, but not enough time to respond. (Please before you question my IRL commitments, I believe lying about them would be against the etiquette policy running on the site.) So again, apologies, and I will post my actual response soon.

Eoladdin stood in what he could only assume was a new style of conga line which included buckets of water. While admittedly it wasn’t quite as fun as the traditional style, passing buckets did have its merits and was at the very least amusing. It was a puzzle then, why all the others seemed so bewildered and upset. Angry even. Perhaps if he smiled a bit wider and laughed a bit louder, his good cheer would become infectious, though that hadn’t worked so far. He bellowed a tentative giggle, (somehow), an action which was shortly followed by a number of curses and more than a few stares. Again, perplexed by the emotions of those surrounding him, Eoladdin gave up with a huff. He placed the bucket he had yet to pass on at his feet and promptly sat in front of it. Cue more curses, stares and maybe even a kick to the ribs. He carefully took his lamp out of his sleeve and began stroking it while staring at his reflection in the bucket. His head was blasted from behind by the light of the fire, so he couldn’t really see his face. But he could see his eyes. Just as they stared at him, he stared at them. Into them. And somehow, beyond them, as if what he saw gave him the strength to be weird and wise in a way he would never normally be. The strength to make him speak. “Allow me to break the fourth wall as only a truly mad man can do.” “Perhaps a conversation? The correlation between convocation and conversation is actually quite beautiful. Life is beautiful, the girls are beautiful. Even the orchestra is beautiful. And so when two mice are dropped in a bucket of cream, it is the one that truly appreciates that which can be seen in this world that will make butter.” “Please allow me to ask the hard question while you watch me as I know you do. Like ‘when will people learn to edit colour before posting?’ or ‘Do American’s really not know what a flat white is?’. Perhaps I might even voice one of yours… ‘What is this guy smoking’.” “To that I say, Lamp oil.” I agree with most of what Ren has stated and I think that's a good a start as any that we're going to get. The only thing I would add is really a question for [Meta] I was under the impression that, as smokers are "undetectable", they cannot remove the copper cloud from themselves/"turn it off" as Ren would say? Might give the seekers pause. This is also my first game with unrestricted PM's (for the time being anyway) so I'm very interested to see how they are used. In that regard, anyone who would like to PM me and have a chat about the game, I'd be glad of the chance to kill some time. Holidays have really left me with nothing at all to do.

I tried a bit of serious RP in the last game and found it a bit dreary and boring.. So back to the sarcasm, frivolity, and inappropriate pop culture references! Eoladdin belonged in a mad house. He was a kook. Insane, batty and more than a little bit 'touched' and in fact, if you took the two seconds to picture the archetypal inhabitant of a loony bin, you would be starting Eoladdin in the face. Ever since the death of the Lord Ruler, everyone in town was a little too preoccupied with the preparation of defences to notice the lunatic walking amongst them, particularly since it had emerged that those preparations were being sabotaged. Finding a seat atop the city wall Eoladdin placed his pet lamp in his lap and began stroking it before surveying the crowd below. Adamant that at some point in a previous life he had been a detective, perhaps he could be of some assistance. The Baron, Joe, Maill and Melend seemed to be the only ones preparing at the moment but more would come no doubt and this perch seemed as good a place to watch them from. Not to mention it was a great place from which to throw pebbles at unsuspecting beggars.

Stars shining bright above you. Night breezes seem to whisper, I love you. Birds singing in the sycamore tree. Dream a little dream of me. Eolloe’s father had always sung around the house. They sung duets almost every night while her mom clapped along, beaming with pride. Those memories of merry family evenings though, seemed more and more surreal to her as night turned into day in this nightmare of an arena. The idea of being happy, of laughing, became absurd. The concept of empathy and sympathy became bizarre. All of her emotions no matter if the stemmed from joy, anger or sadness, everything was swallowed by her fear. Say nighty night and kiss me. Just hold me tight and tell me you’ll miss me. While I’m alone and blue as can be, dream a little dream of me. It was this fear that had driven her remain awake for the night, constantly scanning the horizon for any signs of silhouettes. Her diligence had paid off however, and the price of not killing a mutant was greatly outweighed by the simple fact of still being alive. It was too dark to be able to see who came to attack her, but with the forewarning she gave herself, she was able to fight them off, at least for the time being. Her first taste of the violence that is the hunger games and she had survived. At least someone up above was looking out for her. It was her father’s turn to take the lead in their little duet. The thought of him singing along with her back in district 9 gave her the strength to continue. I had a feeling there might be some pot shots flying over night and was lucky enough to dodge one. As I think, may a few others. Looking at the numbers there were 15 players going into the last cycle change. 5 people killed mutants (round of applause for your generosity). 4 people are dead. That means either 3 successful attacks and a mut kill, or 4 successful attacks and a blocked mut kill. Adding the lovely person who had a stab at me as well as myself defending, that’s, at most, 11, maybe 10 people accounted for, leaving 4/5. What’s most interesting to me is that the number of people that said or insinuated that they would be killing the muts was 8. These being, Meta (never said straight out, but was very suggestive) Seonid Aonar (“most likely”) Dominic Joe Alvron Newan 12thRoot Unfortunately it is impossible to deduce anything more than between 1 to 3 people on that list flat out lied about their activities, due to lack of information, and the fact that nobody seems to find any purpose for discussion, but hey, thought it might be something to bring up.

Oh the shark has, pretty teeth dear. And he shows them, pearly white. Just a jack knife, has Macheath dear. And he keeps it out of sight. Sound echoed around Eolloe’s tube as she sung quietly under her breath. Anything to distract herself from the countdown. The metronome sounding to the beat of 23 inevitable deaths. With her eyes closed, all that remained was a mosaic of 23 faces, 23 pairs of eyes that seemed to glimmer through the darkness. At first she had fought against the faces, trying to prove to herself that she would be able to fight for survival. Through sheer force of will, she would smother the light being projected by her mind’s eye, and immediately felt sick. Now her eyes stayed open. When the shark bites, with his teeth dear. Scarlett billows, start to spread. Fancy gloves though, has Macheath dear, so there’s not a trace of red. She hoped nobody could hear her. Just the tension pulsing in her voice would betray exactly how nervous she was standing in the tube. She’d never considered herself a claustrophobe, though perhaps that might need some rethinking. Newan, the boy from her district was looking at her and she thought, not for the first time, what a strange image she must be portraying. Eyes peeled back as far as they would go, lips constantly muttering a tune that no one else could hear. She returned Newan’s gaze and found it lifted some of her tension. His offer of a book not so long ago had opened up common ground between them and while it may not have readied her soul for killing, she had found a friend, or a close as possible considering the circumstances. Louie Miller, disappeared dear. After drawing out, all his cash. And Macheath spends, like a sailor. Did our boy do, something rash. Any sense of calm Newan’s presence had afforded her quickly evaporated as the platform beneath her feet began to rise. A lid of sorts opened above her head, bathing her in light, and she was almost blinded after being underground for so long. Although, bright the outside may be, she dared not close her eyes and risk the torment of face after face overwhelming her with guilt and self-condemnation. As her eyes readjusted, awareness seemed to flood her. A circle of tributes and the cornucopia lay ahead, which Eolloe quickly decided, was not a desirable path. Turning on her heels to face away from the others, and saying a quick prayer in a kind of premature penance, she held her breath, and waited for the games to start. Sukey Tawdry, Jenny Diver, Lottie Lenya, Sweet Lucy Brown. Oh the ling starts, on the right dear. Now that Mack, he’s back in town. I will not be risking the cornucopia, or conch as I prefer to call it (I see too many similarities between this and lord of the flies). 24hr cycles themselves don't lend themselves to large chunks of forum discussion. Though it is a quick fix game and I'll refrain from the obvious cliche' there. Really at this point I can't see a logical starting point for discussion, the threat of killing people for lack of contribution is really negligible for the next 39 hrs, and I can see how it might fit peoples game plans to keep their conch activities secret. So. Maybe a little bit of RP for today to keep everyone happy, and we can dig in to the juicy stuff tomorrow.

Quick question peng, what happens to an item when the person holding it is killed? My gut reaction was the killer gets it, but seeing as there can be multiple killers, I'm not so sure. edit: Or for example the muts or dehydration kills someone with an item.

Not at all! If anything I feel a bit guilty and responsible for bringing the hate train down on your head... I probably went a bit overboard in my big essay thing, but writing in an angry tone is just so much fun!

Eolloe, a female from district 9 had the misfortune to be selected in the reaping this year. It was sowing season back home, and the earthy smell of seeds was the only thing that gave her comfort as she sat silently on her train to the capital. It was going to be an interesting couple of days.

Thankyou all, this was a hell of a lot of fun. To the spies, unfortunate is the word that springs to mind. There seamed to be a never ending sting of luck following the good guys with the kill on jain, then the first battle, and several lucky saves throughout. Regardless, very well played as I can honestly say I wasn't certain of any ones guilt until the names came up in Wyrm's fabulous write ups. (except maybe macen, but only after the trolling started ) I'm hooked. And I'm sure I'll see many of you next game.

There were fields not too far from camp, grass not long enough to be a hindrance, but when lying down gave ample protection from the prying of unwanted eyes. Here Eoldren found himself, blades of grass poking through his fingers, wind spren floating softly before his face, his vision distant, yet immersed in the beauty of the night sky. The usual strict discipline that was present in camp had descended into a raucous celebration when the last of the spies’ identities had been revealed, and so here in this field, was the only place left where he felt a semblance of peace. His mind however, would not let him rest. One frenzied run, that’s all it will take. One short dash was all that stood between him and freedom. Eoldren raised his shield as a silent thunderstorm of ruin came arching overhead, and added his voice to the collective groan that shuddered through Dalinar’s army. It struck. A cursory glance of his body cleared him of any harm, and without another moment of hesitation he ran. Praying that the confusion of the volley would mask his retreat, he scampered between rank after rank of soldiers, sweat, blood and dirt congealed on his face, blinding his eyes, invading his nose and mouth but still he ran. Shouts started to echo from behind him, the clunking of armoured footfall drummed a constant beat in his head that only seemed to grow louder and louder, still he ran. Scarcely looking ahead of himself, not daring to look back, hands seemed to clutch at his clothes, his hair, his spear and shield, still he ran. Eoldren’s guilt added to the constant onslaught of fear and he began to slow. The shouts became a roar behind him, and the hands began to grasp just a little tighter. It was only the sudden sensation of open air that snapped him back to his senses. Any longer and he’d have collapsed under the weight of his torture. However one look and he could see that his respite had been short lived as before him stood, of all people, a Brightlord. The King’s Wit. And he was injured? Eoldren had been lucky. He’d been able to explain his mad rush as blind devotion to the protection of a Brightlord. Kaddar himself even thanked him personally, which to any other darkeyes would have been a high honour. But to the one man that knew the truth, it had felt hollow, and the memory had not left his mind for the last two weeks. In his mind’s eye, the arrows soared overhead once again as he stood to face the war camp. A decision had been made on that battle field two weeks ago, and it had not been changed in the weeks since. As he turned away, he could hear shouts over his shoulder, athough the absence of footsteps gave him the courage to step forward. As he began to walk, the grass felt like hands grasping at his legs, although this time he had the strength to push through. He left the field and once again found himself in the open air, but here the only thing awaiting him was freedom. It was time for a new home. Maybe somewhere sweet. Like a bakery.

Current vote standings: Damon (1) -Mek Aonar (4) -Kas, Ren, Newan, Eol Jasnah (1) -Odysa Odysa (1) -Alinel Alinel (1) -Twei Twei (1) Joe Sorry for my silence this cycle. Been a busy couple of days, and I know its a lazy thing to say, but 10 vs. 3 with 7 people basically cleared, just feels like we're the yellow jersey riding into Paris.