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Amanuensis

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  1. Amanuensis
    This chapter is now closed!
  2. Amanuensis
    Just a reminder; there's a little more than a half hour left to vote and send in action orders.
  3. Amanuensis
    So Kipper did post last cycle (mod queue kept it from getting approved until after turn over) so I have retracted his Fatal Wound.
  4. Amanuensis
    Chapter 4 will end on Saturday, February 26th at 2PM EST Chapter Four: Death Before Disgrace Reserved for role play, coming soon to a forum near you. Kipper Pyke has received a Fatal Wound for inactivity! Maximum Starkness has received a Fatal Wound for inactivity! Stick was a Steward! Maddox Magguns died to his wounds! Joss Stilwood was burned on a pyre, but survived! Caln Sand was killed by the Turncloaks! [2] Noah Stone: To B. Determined, Artemis Lannister, [3] Joss Stilwood: Oswin Snow, Caln Sand, Baldo Buggins [1] Artemis Lannister: Noah Stone, [2] Baldo Buggins: Orr Locke, Maddox Magguns TheMightyLopen: To B. Determined Kynedath: Gaera Skor'Gaera Gold Cloak Curious Anamaximder: Maximum Starkness Alvron: Joss Stilwood Mailliw73: Maddox Magguns Elbereth: Elbereth Gilthoniel IrulelikeSTINK: Reek, Reek, it rhymes with Geek Stoneman Mark IV: Maxicos the Cutter Ranger Sart: Oswin Snow Paranoid King: Baldo Buggins Kipper: Kipper Pyke JerleShannara: Noah Stone ThatTinyStrawMan: He is a Stick Steward OrlokTsubodai: Orr Locke Clanky: Caln Sand DeathClutch19: Artemis Lannister LUNA: Luna Arryn Chapter Four has begun! Due to real life circumstances, this chapter's turn over will be three hours earlier than usual, however the schedule shall return to normal the following day. GM PMs should arrive very shortly. Please do not send any more messages in your PMs from last cycle (unless you want to renew it instead of contacting another player, in which case inform me in our GM PM first).
  5. Amanuensis
    Chapter Three is now closed! Please do not post or send PMs until Chapter Four is posted.
  6. Amanuensis
    Write up is finally complete. Sorry for the delay (it's been a long, exhausting day).
  7. Amanuensis
    Chapter 3 will end on Friday, February 26th at 5PM EST Chapter Three: Fire and Blood Maester Lyam looked away from Reek’s corpse with mild disgust, his nose pinched with a clothespin to keep him from choking on the stench and a pair of sterilized gloves taut against his hands as he excavated the hole where his heart should be. As the old wolf poked and prodded at the wound, a young boy - no older than thirteen - entered from an open door across the room. “Seven hells, what’s that smell?” he mumbled through the fold of his elbow. The Maester laughed a nasally laugh. “Glad to have you back so soon, Elrit. I trust you learned something of use?” the boy nodded. “Good. To answer your question, that smell is Reek. Turns out death only doubled the potency of his namesake. Quickly, fetch a clothespin for your nose and write something down for me.” Saying no more to keep himself from inhaling more of the stench, the boy complied. “Lord Bolton,” Maester Lyam began. “Maxicos the Cutter and Gaera Skor’Gaera’s corpses bore no unusual aspects, however, Reek’s wound is unlike anything I have ever seen. It seems that whatever pierced him corrupted the surrounding flesh, causing it to blacken and decay at an alarming rate. It almost reminds me of those ancient horror stories of Asshai, of the Dark Death and the monstrous abominations born from it. “There’s something else. Honestly I’m amazed we never knew this before. Reek was a Stoneman - or, at least, had a Stonehand. Somehow, though the disease never claimed any flesh beyond his forearm, the infection still thrived. A curious development, and concerning to say the least.” Maester Lyam paused, then glanced at his steward. "Elrit, what did you learn from visiting the victims chambers?" “Well, Maester, Maxicos seemed to be planning to join the Night’s Watch,” he said, frowning. “A couple of the Rangers sent on missions with him to the north had taken a liking to him and was teaching him their ways. His chamber was filled with scribblings of our oaths, as if he were trying to memorize them. He even owned a pair of blacks, though not handmedowns. They were unworn and well cared for.” “Interesting... and as for Gaera?” “For the most part his room was empty; clean. I did find a silken, golden cloak folded neatly and sealed within a wooden box stamped with the insignia of capital city’s watch, however. That is all.” “And Reek?” “Well his stench still lingered, of course, but aside from that his was the most informative. Within his braizer I found a piece of parchment, singed around the edges but still readable. On it were orders for him to infect prominent members of the Night’s Watch with Greyscale, up to and including the Lord Commander, Maester. He also owned more gold than any Sworn Brother should have reason to possess.” “I see. Write this all down for Lord Bolton and deliver it to him directly, along with an apology for my remaining behind. Studying these corpses has taken up much of my time, and there are many important matters left for me to attend to.” “As you wish it,” Elrit said with a bow, finishing his letter to the Lord Commander and departing soon after, door slammed shut in a rush behind him. “So,” Lord Bolton began, measuring the two men standing before him “which one of you two will it be?” Solemn, Maddox looked and pointed and Stick. Behind him a pair of men - one bearing the sigil of House Locke over his heart, the other a handsome, golden-haired Lannister - stood with arms crossed, showing their support. Smiling, Stick looked at Maddox and bellowed “I am a Stick!” A trio of men nodded approvingly behind him. Among them was Oswin Snow, whom seemed to look as good as new, Baldo Buggins, a short Free Man with hairy, bare feet, and Maximum Starkness, a boy renowned for his silence. Numbers aside, it wouldn’t have been a difficult decision to make. Cursed Lannisters, he thought fiercely. “Maddox, you helped Maxicos to the pyre yesterday, didn’t you?” the Sworn Brother nodded. “Good. Then you already know where to go. Unless you plan on resisting your Lord Commander?” For a moment Lord Bolton thought the man would rebel but, much to his surprise, Maddox simply held his head high and turned to his companions. “Locke, Lannister, mind helping me with my bonds?” “You sure, Magguns?” Locke answered. Lannister just eyed the Sworn Brother curiously. “I am. A little fire won’t be the death of me. I swear it on the gods, old and new, I will survive this.” Skeptical, the two men agreed and followed the man to the executioner's chair; a great, oak throne, logs soaked in some alchemical concoction that made it slick and sticky at the same time. Once seated, the Locke and Lannister tied ropes around the condemned man's wrists, ankles, torso and brow and secured them all with a tight knot to keep him from thrashing. “I hope you won’t hate me for this, Maddox,” Lord Bolton spoke regretfully as he lit his torch on a nearby brazier and tossed it into the pile of dry brush beneath the pyre. In a bloom of heat, bright blue flames manifested across the surface of the oaken throne, consuming the Sworn Brother’s body and obscuring his face as he loosed a primal, throaty scream. All the while the Lord Commander’s gaze never left the dark, blazing shadow within the azure inferno. Finally, when the screaming stopped, Lord Bolton ordered the stable boy Stick to put the pyre out, the wooden seat a smoldering mess but the fire resistant ropes - and surprisingly, Maddox’s corpse - mostly in tact. Though his blacks had all turned to ash, his skin was only raw and furiously red, as if the man had just been lying out in the sun naked for several hours too long. It was at that moment that his eyes snapped open and his chest heaved, lungs desperately flexing for air. “I told you," he paused to take a long, deep, euphoric breath, "that I'd survive." Dissatisfied with Maddox’s survival, Stick retreated to the stables to tend to his chores. Caring for the horses of the Night’s Watch was his one, true passion, though he was fond of the occasional bonfire, especially the ones with men flailing and wailing inside them. Men were cruel, but horses… they were kind. Men hurt Stick, sometimes with words, other times stones or blunted steel, while the horses would listen to his woes and even lick his tears away when he cried! Oh how he hated men and loved horses. Sometimes he wished he were a horse himself, though not when he remembered their sole purpose in life was to serve and be ridden by men. “I am a stick,” he told the young gelding, Chorus, as he pet its mane. In his head he said “One day we will be free of these monsters.” Chorus neighed softly as if he could somehow understand. Smiling, Stick reached into his satchel and retrieved a sugar cube for the gelding, then kissed it on the forehead before wandering off to finish the rest of his work. Hours passed as he undressed and cleaned the horses that had been taken out by Rangers on a mission earlier that day, filled the horse’s troughs with dinner, let them all loose into the fenced yard to frolic in the fresh air, and mucked out their beds of filth. By the time the sun had set and the stars flickered into existence, he lead them all back into their pens and took residence in the bed of hay that was his own. Shivering, he buried himself deeper within his blanket of grain, remembering the screams that the wildling Maxicos and Sworn Brother Maddox made as they seized inside the flames. Like counting sheep, recalling the sweet tune of their suffering lulled the stable boy swiftly into sleep. Stick dreamed that he was a horse. Not just any horse, mind you, but the King of Horses, with an army of stallions and destriers and silvers at his back. Together they stampeded all over Westeros - felling every city where men ruled in their wake - before galloping across the sea to conquer the great, ball of fire that slept beyond the horizon. As they approached the sun, Stink and his horses began to sweat until eventually they reached the golden sphere, drank from its heat like a watering hole, and became the very flames themselves. It didn’t take long for the Night’s Watch to notice their stables burning and sound the alarm, though when the great blaze was finally extinguished it was far too late to salvage anything from within. Maxicos the Cutter was a Ranger! Gaera Skor'Gaera was a Gold Cloak! Reek was a Stoneman! Maddox Magguns was burned on a pyre, but survived! Stick was killed by the Turncloaks! [3] ThatTinyStrawMan: Mailliw73, OrlokTsubodai, DeathClutch93 [4] Mailliw73: Sart, Paranoid King, Curious Anamaximder, ThatTinyStrawMan [1] TheMightyLopen: Clanky Chapter Three has begun! GM PMs should arrive very shortly. Please do not send any more messages in your PMs from last cycle (unless you want to renew it instead of contacting another player, in which case inform me in our GM PM first).
  8. Amanuensis
    Chapter Two is now closed! Chapter Three will be posted and PMs sent out shortly, the write up to be edited in soon after.
  9. Amanuensis
    An hour remains. Get your orders in and cast your votes if you intend to.
  10. Amanuensis
    Yes, Mailliw told me you wanted in but didn't provide a name or anything, so I went with Arryn for a surname since their sigil includes a moon, and since you hadn't posted until the very end last cycle I had that part of the write up written where Oswin and you dealt fatal wounds to each other (obviously had to change it since you showed up ). Glad you don't mind :]
  11. Amanuensis
    That's correct. I was just using Marcas as an example for how things would look.
  12. Amanuensis
    It's only backfiring if it turns out you're not a Traitor. Maybe I'm wrong but you seem to be taking this game more seriously than I'm used to. Then again, I realize now that this is a terrible point because the game that gave me that impression of non-chalance was LG15b when you were evil. Still, you were in QF12 and village there, right? I'll have to go give that a read over to confirm, because honestly I don't remember much else than my tunnel on Orlok and that I figured out Arraenae and Kipper were evil very early. By the Rae-BB-Kynedath connection, I mean on C1 when you voted for Kynedath due to his RP and Rae voted on you for voting for the RP. EDIT: Soo, I combed through QF13 and these are some of the posts I'm referring to when I say you don't seem yourself this game. I spent 5 minutes trying to read this. I will have my revenge. Eventually. In the most mysterious way possible. Now that my mysterious brain is properly woken up, I did think that Anna-who-sa-whatsit's style was very different than normal, and find that very suspicious, so to "get this game started," Anamaximder. Wait. What? Since when was this a thing? Will this show up in other cycles/games? Can I have a potted plant? And I certainly know I want to read through the spec doc once we're done with this game. This looks FUN. Also, spectators. I know you can see this. I can't see you, but I have faith you exist. Bequeath PK a cookie. I think the poor guy needs one. Oh, and flowers for Anna. I think he needs 'em more than I do. And to a question voiced last cycle, yes, I know Anamaximder is (probably) male, but I wanted to find a way to shorten the name, like BB or PK, and Anna was the first thing I came up with. And Anna, if you're seeing this, I apologize for voting on and killing you. I didn't mean it really. So don't haunt my character forever. Thanks. Oh yeah. Mystique Chameleon. Thanks! Bye! Granted not all of your posts were light hearted like these, and my point is more or less moot since you had a similar style of posts in a game where you were evil as well, however I still would like to know what's changed.
  13. Amanuensis
    Chapter 2 will end on Thursday, February 25th at 5PM EST Chapter Two: As High As Honor The courtyard of Castle Black was alive with the sounds of clashing steel. Ser Tarly and Ser Dayne watched the duel from the top of an adjacent rampart, talking with one another about which of their warriors would win. “Your girl is formidable, I’ll give you that,” the Master-at-Arms said with a smile, “but she’s no match for the young Snow. Bastards, the way I see them, can only end up one of two ways. Strong as Valyrian steel or as brittle as milkglass, and I assure you, Oswin is not the latter.” Ser Dayne laughed. “But look at the way she dances around him, man! He might be strong, but even in a full set of plate she moves faster! Granted, your boy’s very good at covering his critical vulnerabilities, but at this rate it’s just a matter of time until she finds a hole in his defenses and strikes him down. Just watch.” And watch he did. Most of what the Sword of the Morning said was true, Ser Tarly conceded. Luna Arryn was much faster, despite her heavy armor. Oswin, however, had the advantage of size and a unique shield of which he himself carved; a great slab of ironwood that curved around his weak side, protecting him from his chest to the back of his left tricep. So long as he kept turning to face the girl and crouched when the squire swept her sword low, he could not be touched. Luna Arryn, on the other hand, did not bother with a shield. Instead she wielded a pair of cutlass’ in the fashion of some martial art she learned while studying abroad in the Free Cities of Essos. It was a queer way to fight, but not ineffective, especially against someone who had never seen a combat style such as that before. Pensive, Ser Tarly wondered how he would fare battling against a foe such as her. And yet Oswin was evenly matched with the squire, and for a second even seemed to be enjoying himself. Despite his alcoholic tendencies, Lord Glover’s bastard was the best they had from the latest batch of Sworn Brothers. Even intoxicated, he had yet receive so much as a tiny scratch from his peers, and yet- The Master-at-Arms lost his train of thought as he witnessed the Arryn girl execute a feint that sent Oswin stumbling, hot crimson leaking from a large gash at his shoulder blade. Though surprised, the bastard knew better to resist his momentum and instead brought his shield in between his body and the ground, using its curve to roll over his shoulder onto his knee, sword arm slashing out at the squire’s side as she came in for the notional kill. Without proper leverage the Sworn Brother’s blade could not pierce the woman’s armor. Realizing he had been defeated, Oswin lowered his weapon and attempted to stand, only to fall to his knee as soon as he felt that his shin had been splinted when he tumbled. “Huh. Well would you look at that. Seems Loony won, but got too excited to keep her promise,” Ser Dayne said, frowning. “I knew it was unwise to let them wield live steel,” the Master-at-Arms answered regretfully. “An acolyte from Oldtown should see to him quickly, however. I can’t imagine why they’d have any other patients to tend to,” he added, pleased to see the squire was already helping the bastard with his wounds. Perhaps there was hope for this uneasy alliance yet. “Yes, yes. Let him in,” Lord Bolton demanded of his steward, staring down at the masses gathering about Castle Black from the vantage of his chamber’s balcony. Behind him his door swung open, closed, then opened again, allowing the old wolf entry. “I trust you left the Baelish boy outside?” he asked after recognizing the clinging of the Maester’s chains. “Of course, though suffice it to say there was not much left to learn from the Umber’s corpse,” the elder man answered. “I did, however, confirm his titanic lineage. If not for the combination of his wounds and the noose around his neck, I’d dare say that the boy would have lived long enough to be cared for. A shame that he was so severely outnumbered… we’ve lost too many good men, lately.” “It’s only the beginning,” the Lord Commander said matter-of-factly, voice barren of emotion. The Maester hated it when the Bolton got like this; so externally cold and uncaring. But what else could be expected of a man from his house? The Stark dismissed the thought. They both had forsaken their families and their feuds when they swore their oaths; bringing up past wounds would do them no good. “Does it not vex you that those murderous Turncloaks painted the words of your House on our Wall with blood?” “Of course it does, Lord Bolton. One of my apprentices wrote down the words just as it was seen and has begun asking every man and woman in Castle Black to recreate the message so that we might find the culprit responsible.” “Good, good. My men have been interviewing those on watch all day, though so far all have sound alibis. A man did, however, discover a word etched in the ice at the 18th O.P.” “Oh?” the Maester asked, curious. “What was it?” “Lion,” the Lord Commander spat with vehemence. “Cease your talking!” Lord Bolton yelled over the incessant chatter, approaching the gathering of Sworn Brothers, Free Folk and King’s Men with Maester Lyam at his side and taking a position on an elevated platform nearby. “So; who among you has anything to say?” he said, quieter now that they had all shut their mouths, as his iron-colored eyes scanned the crowd from right to left for motion. Surprisingly it was a Free Man who approached the Lord Commander first, though unsurprisingly he did not address the Lord Commander with his proper honorific, nor did he bow or bend. “It was Kipper Pyke,” he said, the accusation drawing the Maester’s attention immediately. “And why do you say that?” Maester Lyam beat Lord Bolton to asking. Maxicos the Cutter just shrugged and started to walk away, only to find a much smaller man blocking his path. “Where do you think you’re going?” Noah Stone asked, tone challenging. Maxicos answered with a smile. “My lord, I suggest that this wildling was responsible. Why else would he blindly accuse one of our own but to cause us to distrust one another?” Immediately another man approached, nodding approvingly. “I am a stick!” he shouted, pleased by the turn of events. “What?” the Lord Commander spat. “Oh, that’s just Stick,” Maester Lyam explained. “Thinks he’s a stick and says nothing else. Simple minded, but strong, and twice the stable man Lord Hodor ever was.” Lord Bolton shook his head, bemused, but allowed the discussion to continue. Another man had joined in now, this one stinking worse than Ser Dayne’s loo after a bowl of curry. “I do agree it was Kipper, the man with the big zipper. Despite the murder he just seems too chipper, and I’m not only saying this because he stole my slipper.” “What?” the Lord Commander spat again. “Oh, that’s just Stink,” Maester Lyam explained. “Or was it Reek? No matter. That boy’s a bit odd around the edges too. Likes to rhyme. Sometimes I think he just says things for the sake of it.” Lord Bolton sighed heavily, increasingly exhausted by the nonsense he’s witnessed, and it’s only been a few minutes... How in the Seven Hells are we going to win against the Others with idiots like this manning the wall? he wondered. “Kill Maxicos!” a fifth voice shouted from the middle of the crowd. “Why are so many of you so eager to kill? You know what, I cast my vote for Kipper. That makes three a piece, right? A tie? Can we all go home now?” Gaera chimed in. Finally, a man with some sense, the Lord Commander thought. “I am a stick!” Stick shouted out the crowd, seemingly to recruit more men for his cause. Baldo answered, somehow convinced. Gaera retreated, thoroughly disappointed. “Fine. Men, take Maxicos to the pyre. And someone fetch me a torch.” And home Gaera went, though when he arrived he did not do so alone. “A tie?” a man draped in shadows asked from behind, knife pressed to the islander’s throat, laughing as his target trembled. “So desperate to save a man you hardly know, but why? Wait. Don’t answer that. I just realized something. I don’t care. There is something I am curious of, however. How does it feel knowing you failed? Knowing that you could not protect him, or anyone. Not even yourself?” Truth was, the Turncloak didn’t care about that either. He just wanted to give Gaera something to mull over as he slit his throat and left him to die, life leaking out of him on his chamber floor. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with Leak. How the Rhymer suddenly ended up on night shift he was unsure, though he would not let it discourage him. Tonight, Reek began his post the same way he always did; by pissing over the end of the world. A ritual he first heard of from legends his wet nurse used to tell him as a child about the Imp, Tyrion Lannister, who did the same thing whenever he came to visit the Night’s Watch. Typically this sort of thing relieved him, but even after his main vein stopped draining, he felt oddly uneasy. Looking down to refasten his belt, he just barely noticed the word “lion” carved into the ice nearby, the letter’s grooves crusted with blood. Oh right, Marcas. I must be here thanks to his carcass, he thought nonchalantly as he turned… Only to find himself staring at a man made of shadow. “Well now, I must be dreaming, for I do not recall having any shade of the evening… this evening,” Reek finished, then frowned. “No, no, I can do better than that. Now where did I put my best thinking hat?” he laughed. Oddly enough the shadow man shook with laughter as well, though soon enough Reek realized it was not because of his rhymes, but because of how helpless he was when the thing ran his heart through with its dark, nebulous blade. Reek, Reek, it rhymes with… Death. Oswin Snow has received a Fatal Wound due to inactivity! Marcas Umber was a Giant-Blooded Ranger! Maxicos the Cutter was burned on a pyre! Gaera Skor'Gaera was killed by the Turncloaks! Reek was killed by a Shadowbinder! [1] ThatTinyStrawMan: Kipper [3] Kipper: Mark IV, IrulelikeSTINK, Kynedath [4] Mark IV: JerleShannara, ThatTinyStrawMan, Mailliw73, Paranoid King Chapter Two has begun! GM PMs should arrive very shortly. Please do not send any more messages in your PMs from last cycle (unless you want to renew it instead of contacting another player, in which case inform me in our GM PM first).
  14. Amanuensis
    Chapter One is over! Please do not post or send any more PMs until the new thread is posted!
  15. Amanuensis
    Luckat - wasn't a dead confirmed loyal when I "cast suspicion" (asked questions) which when responded to was reconsidered and retracted. Lopen - I don't know that Anamax - all I know is he was defended by Rae, claimed a role to you and after two cycles of you asking him to prove it still hasn't delivered BB - well, I don't have a PM with him so all I can go off is his posts and how others interacted with him. Also, given that him and Hellscythe were Elbereth's top suspicions when she died (I'm relatively certain she didn't just tell you and I this, given how active she was in PMs) one of them being a Traitor could be a possible reason she was targeted and of the two BB is a more worthwhile option because either way we will be able to look at who has defended him and who pushed for his death. Also, BB, I'm about to commute but when I get to where I'm going I'll edit in a response to your post.
  16. Amanuensis
    Just a reminder; there are approximately 3 hours and 40 minutes left in this cycle to vote and place orders in your GM PM. The sooner I know what everyone intends to do, the sooner I can produce the next write-up and start the next cycle. Turn over will always be at 5PM EST, no matter how long it takes to post the thread.
  17. Amanuensis
    The additional vote will only last for the duration of the following cycle.
  18. Amanuensis
    If tied, no one will be sent to the pyre that day. They will, however, accumulate an additional vote next cycle. Two is the minimum number of votes required; a single players accusation is not enough to warrant death.
  19. Amanuensis
    For some reason alot of your logic just keeps leaving me dumbfounded this cycle. I'm not trying to cast suspicion on anyone. I am voicing my opinion and voting for players I think are more likely to be evil. Just because you don't agree with my assessment of people doesn't mean I'm a Traitor. And honestly this statement of yours sounds to me like you have a lot more information on the alignments of players than I do. More and more, Stink, I think you're right about him.
  20. Amanuensis
    Was about to go to sleep but saw an email with a couple of these questions and thought they were too important to let go unanswered. No. This is one of two circumstances where the Warg's ability will not work. In this case it is due to the discreet nature of the Stoneman role; flavor wise, all the Stoneman would have to do is brush their target in passing with their infected hand or taint a water supply or meal that they are about to consume, therefore it is near impossible for a character to determine on their own. In the case of an attack from a Shadowbinder, Traitor or Faceless Man, they will see the person who attacks them before they die and thus be able to send their bonded pet to seek vengeance. The other circumstance that a Warg's ability would be nullified is if they receive a Fatal Wound from inactivity, as they have no one but themselves to blame for their death at that point. Clanky's interpretation is correct. You can vote once, send a single PM and take one action every cycle. Greenseer's are not required to put their name in the doc, they simply could choose a color and name themselves Greenseer #1 and Greenseer #2, for example.
  21. Amanuensis
    Only the first vote would count until he retracts it in a later post; at that point it would then move to the next player, as he demonstrated by removing his vote from Jerle. That being said, I'm going to rule right now that original votes be green'd out when retracted as well in order to make my life easier / make it harder for me to make a mistake.
  22. Amanuensis
    (2) Bridge Boy: Clanky, Adavantos (1) Adavantos: Kynedath (1) Lopen: Stink (1) Kynedath: Bridge Boy Alright so, I had been debating for a long time which of the two (Kynedath and Bridge Boy) were most likely evil, knowing that Arraenae was a Traitor. I had considered Kynedath too obvious since he was the first player Arraenae defended on C1 (because BB had voted for him) but after that business with the 'social experiment' I had begun to reconsider. Now, having ready Kynedath's last post, I am more convinced of his innocence. I'm still not very fond of intentional inactivity (it'd be one thing if it were due to real life circumstances) but I can respect him trying out something new. Now, when I discussed the Rae-BB-Kyn connection with Elby, she believed it more likely that Rae would have tried to distance herself from a teammate rather than defend one. Upon further consideration (and observation of BB) I feel inclined to agree. I always thought his post about tentative targets for the Traitors was strange, and have taken notice of the significant shift in his style of play. Not that playing differently is a bad thing or should be discouraged but it is a potential tell, and at the moment I do not have much better information to go off of. I will try my best to make an attempt at analyzing all of his posts, either to confirm my gut or combat it, as in the past I have had gut feelings that players were evil (Hero in AG2) but as soon as I sifted through their posts logically I found that they were good.
  23. Amanuensis
    I am always pleased to see when new players edit old posts instead of double posting, however, for future reference please ensure that you leave the original content of your post in tact and add on your additional thoughts beneath it, preferably after the word "Edit:" Thank you very much :]
  24. Amanuensis
    Touché.
  25. Amanuensis
    Emphasis mine. Clique is pronounced like click. 0/10 wouldn't read again.
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