AliasSheep
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Whoever's editing the GM doc, it's the Spy game rather than the WoT game I'm doing. -
Can I sign up to run a QF? It'd be the spy themed one from this post.
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I was thinking last night, to prevent being too obvious about identities, to ask, at the end of the game, every Black Ajah member who they thought the others were. If enough people managed to guess a person's identity (thus showing it was because of tells and not sheer luck (still possible but very unlikely)) then that person wouldn't share in the win with the rest of the eliminators and they'd be "killed by the Chosen" or something. I went for the conversion more for thematic reasons than game reasons, though the kill would still work. I'm still wondering about whether to keep the exile mechanic as well, or just remove it and use only the execution.
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Yeah, that one is by far the one that needs more work. And yeah, having roles revealed is the goal, though it needs more balancing of course. Regarding communicating via GM, I'm usually online for a lot of the day, excluding the time for lessons, though I think asking someone if they wanted to co-GM and be in a different timezone to me would help (open invitation, people!). At the moment, I'm trying to figure out some kind of platform to do the Night turn Black Ajah communication on, since using a Google doc risks people logging in and revealing their identity. I could even facilitate the one on one communication through this as well, if I use the platform I'm thinking of (Slack). Regarding the Red Ajah point, the darkfriend would have to convince the other members of the Ajah to redirect their target, as the actions are tied to Ajahs rather than individual players. This makes that a little less powerful, I hope. Also adds a lot more places for paranoia. The obvious solution to the darkfriend advantage there is to make the conversion have a one cycle cooldown to it. Might require a bit more balancing though.
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This is an experimental game I wrote up earlier today. Wondering on thoughts for it, I think it would fit as a QF pretty well, and would probably want to run it some time in the future. Without further ado: The name's Smith, John Smith There is no main thread in this game, except for information from the GM which is shared with all players, and if anyone wants to, RP. Each person starts with two PMs, each containing themself and another player. Roles Factions Order of OperationsVoting Vote manipulation PM removal PM addition Hacking Freelance Alignment Switch EDIT: And since I'm here, might as well post the other one I wrote up stuff for. This one is a bit bigger, looking more to be an MR or LG than a QF. It's a WoT game, set during the 10th book. The Eyes of the Dark One Roles Factions Order of Actions TBD
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Thanks.
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Can I spectate this one?
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We used it as evidence that Rae was Hoid, earlier on. About Lopen (we happened to move on while I was asleep, so I'd like to put my thoughts down anyway), he's been posting a lot of Shards and their holders which I previously didn't know, as in, I don't remember those names being revealed anywhere else in the thread. It seems suspicious that he'd be putting out this information that Odium could then use to choose a target. The confusing is, I think Odium has a PM with their champion, so why would he need to do this?
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I'm also going to vote for DC, mostly because of points I raised back earlier in the game, when I stated I found him suspicious then as well. Especially when he stated that Aman was the only player providing information.
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I also just found out there's a 6th book that Eoin Colfer wrote. A Trilogy of Six, then?
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Note the capital T on the Trilogy The series of books that the Hitchhiker's guide is part of is called the Trilogy of Five. There were originally three books, and then two more were added on, so now there's five books, but it's still a Trilogy.
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They're well worth it, when you get round to them. Though I'm of the opinion that the last two books of the Trilogy are worse than the first three.
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This is so Douglas Adams
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Aman, please, I had enough of this psyche-out stuff in QF15....
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Devotion, can I request a PM with Leift? Thanks.
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The Highstorm started in the east, in the Origin. It swept across the seas, causing waves and tides beyond that normally seen. Then it hit New Natanan, raining debris down thereon and bringing heavy rains and winds upon the houses there, each holding people who were, despite the normality of the event, slightly intimidated, even subconsciously. Even regularity could not undo the terrifying effects of such a tempest. Next it hit the Unclaimed Hills, and for a while, then moving into Althekar and the main section of the Frostlands. It moved across with similar effects to New Natanan, the creatures hiding away. Kelen had been lying behind the rock for the best part of a day, completely unconscious. His wound had taken all the strength out of him, leaving him in a pool of his own blood, surprising him that he hadn't already died from bleeding out. His head ached fiercely, as did most of the muscles in his body and it took all of his strength just to sit up slightly. He raised a hand to his head, and found a small cut there, probably from when he'd fallen over. Memories dripped into his mind in small fragments, though telling him little about how he'd actually gotten behind the rock. He had faint thoughts of running through a battle, a battle that was surely over now, but nothing of how he'd made it out alive. A hand to his side informed him of why he'd been unconscious however. A single stray (hopefully stray, at least) arrow to the side. It was a miracle he was still alive. Not that he believed in miracles. Yet after a few moments of recovery, a sound pierced the faint dullness of his senses. The sound of wind. Kelen swore, and took a quick look over the top of the rock he was behind. And there it was. The Stormwall, in all its glory. The symphony of destruction and minister of death. Specifically, Kelen's. He sat down again and slumped against the rock, hitting his head and crying out in sudden pain, though not significantly moving his body. The cry had been muted as it was. Resignation swept over him, along with despair. Utter and total despair. One did not simply survive being out in a highstorm unprotected, especially one in the condition he was. Mist appeared in that moment from around the rock, looking confused, though she had obviously seen a highstorm before. Surely she had. "We are inside always when this happens." "Yes, we are." "And we are now not" "Yes." "Why?" "Because I'm an idiot." "I understand not." "It doesn't matter if you do or not. Not anymore." "Why?" "Because death approaches, Mist. Horrible, horrible death." "Oh". And then the highstorm struck. Kelen was largely protected by the rock, though bits and pieces of debris did occasionally veer towards him, usually missing by a few fingerlengths. He was cold though. So cold. There was no warmth in the air, and all the warmth in his body was stolen thereby, leaving him a freezing mess, curled up tightly, hoping that death would be quick and painless. He would have walked into the storm itself, but he didn't have the willpower. He didn't want to die, he just thought it was inevitable. And then that thought stuck. He didn't even intend for it to, but it did. He didn't want to die. And he didn't have to either. Grabbing ahold of that thought, he got onto his knees and moved close to his rock cover, then began to examine the area around him, checking for places of a greater safety than the place he was then. The place was mostly other rocks, some buried into the stone floor where normally tiny strands of grass would be sticking out. And then he saw something, a small crevice in which a few rockbuds were strewn. It seemed big enough to fit him and a little more, and was protected by an outcropping of stone that reached up and over in an arch, keeping off most of the wind. If he got over there he'd be able to live. A plan started to form in his mind, first with finding a route among the other rocks. Each would provide minimal cover, but by moving from rock to rock he'd be able to minimise the amount of time spent in the ravages of the storm, and so maximise his chances of staying alive. Each second in the storm increased the probability of him dying, so reducing that time was vital. From what he could tell, he'd be able to get to each rock quite quickly, and if he was nimble enough, grab onto it within less than a second of leaping out from the previous windbreak. That way, he'd be able to swing himself round using the power of the wind itself. True he might get a little smashed against the rocks, and true he didn't know if he had the strength in him, but he had no better options. The plan seemed effective enough anyway, and if carried out successfully, he would survive a highstorm. Survive a storming highstorm. With no protection at all. That was an achievement if anything was. And thus, he put it into action. The first rock was somewhat to the right of him, and so he moved towards that edge, getting as close to the border of safety as he dared. He eyed the thing and found what looked to be a decent handhold on its side, somewhere where he could reasonably keep himself in place. Mist eyed him suspiciously, and then moved in front, looking him in the eye. "What are you doing?" "Surviving." And he jumped, reaching his right hand, his strong hand, outstretched before him. For a moment, he felt nothing, and he panicked as he became conscious of beginning to move away from the rock. And then he hit it, his hand instinctually clasping down on the target he'd laid out earlier. He started to swing round, pushed by the wind and pulled up by his own minimal strength. And then his hopes broke. The stone lifted up into the air, pulled out of its precarious hold by the enormous storm, the winds dragging it along. Kelen lost his hold immediately, and flew off into the tempest, being dragged around by rogue currents and swirls. He collided with bits of debris, his body being almost torn to pieces by small pieces of shrapnel, then battered with bruises from rocks long since smoothed over by the storm. He felt himself fly in every direction, sometimes at once, chaotically moving through the storm's tides, slowly dying each time. Despair set in again, and he resigned himself to death. And then for the third time, Mist appeared. And he grabbed onto hope again, grabbed onto that need to survive. No. He would not let himself die, even if he was completely powerless. He could not let that happen. Not now, not ever. "Speak the words", the spren whispered into his ear, softly, this time it's tone normal, not changing erratically like before. What words! He didn't know what she was talking about. It was so vague, so meaningless to him. And what would the words do to help him anyway, in this situation? He pushed the thought out of his head, put the spren out of his mind, and set about thinking over his predicament, thinking of a way to escape. And then it came again. "Speak the words." And this time, he knew. He had not let himself die. He had grasped onto the few strands of hope, the last thing he had to keep him here in this world, in this Cosmere. He had taken what he could, and he had made it work. It had worked. He had forced himself to keep living. To live. "Life before death," he whispered. He felt new strength swirl inside of himself, felt a new confidence arising. He had not given up. He had taken what little willpower he had and made it work. He had forced his weakened body into action, and because of that, he had not died a worthless death. He had done something to work, done something with the little strength he had left. That was what was important. "Strength before weakness," he spoke, louder this time. The strength swirled again. The confidence rose higher. The feelings grew greater. He had not seen is objective and resolved himself to that. He had planned. He had decided what to do. He had made a plan, he had set out his route, he had made his way. And what mattered was not that he had failed to reach that place, that original objective. But that he had began his journey. "Journey!" he shouted, "before destination! He felt his body burst into new life, and Mist shouted over the storm, loud enough that he could hear, "Now breathe!". He opened his mouth, and filled his lungs, and the light filled him. It healed his wounds in instants, the arrow being forced out. It strengthened his body, made the flying debris no longer inflict any great damage upon him. It strengthened his resolve, making him believe he could get out of this situation. It powered his mind, and suddenly all his thoughts felt clear. In one moment, a storm entered him, filling him completely, until he could be filled up no more. And it powered him. A light swirled around him, covering his body completely, and then he felt the wind cease against his body. No more rain against his skin. He was surrounded by black, with a white ball in the sky. Before him stood Mist, looking nothing like before, though he knew it was her. "Welcome," she spoke. Yet he could not respond. He was too overwhelmed. It was his nightmare. For the full experience of the RP post I just wrote, listen to this whilst reading it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZMbFu457jGs It's what I listened to whilst writing it. Now, game stuff. I can see the reasons for suspicions behind Arrae, but at the moment I think her arguments have been quite reasonable, and she's said she wants to be deconstructing more posts this game, something I'm quite interested to see - and if that doesn't happen, we'll know that something's up. That, plus I've found a lot of Aman's arguments against him being an eliminator to be incredibly weak (see: 'I wouldn't do that if I was an eliminator' and 'I'm not Odium because Odium dying Day 1 is bad for Odium'). This is in addition to me finding his Elantrian claim to be dubious at best, for reasons already given, equating basically to: him being an Elantrian, specifically the Elantrian from the previous day, makes no sense, given the actions that occurred. For all this (which I'm pretty is sure is mostly incredibly weak arguments, but eh), I'm going to vote for Aman. And with that, I'm going to bed. See you all tomorrow! EDIT: I got the order of the statements in the first ideal wrong >.>
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So my school is doing another 50 word story competition, and I like these things for the amount of experimentation I get to do with them. Last year I wrote an entire Tolkien-esque epic using only standalone words from which the rest of the story was supposed to extrapolated. This year, I'm messing around with perspective, blame, responsibility and revealing information. When reading it, keep in mind two questions. Who is to blame and are the characters right for doing what they do. "Aplydes sunk his dagger into Nestra’s neck, killing her instantly. A message from god sprawled the wall when Aplydes awoke. Plyades wrote a phrase then collapsed: I am god. Kill. Horror crossed Plyades as he watched the woman murder Father. Agam had never expected his own delusional son a killer." Feedback is welcome, I'd love to know what you think on it, especially about the two questions I mentioned. Hope you enjoyed!
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Of course, you could be the evil one Anyway, I'm not sure what to think about Cloud's last post. They've put some suspicions out that I'd like to see more clarifications on.
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> when I hit post and then internet drops out for a second and I lose it all. Anyway, what I said was that I might of misinterpreted Aman, and he might be back before the end of the turn. With that out the way, regardless of that Lopen, I still don't see how the actions make sense at all. I can't think of the reasoning behind it, so it just confuses me. And I seem to have missed your last post regarding Elo and Conq. Conq, can I get reasoning behind you trusting Rae and Mark?
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I don't like how you're voting for Aman when he's unable to defend himself, especially when you've switched votes from Aman to Rae to Aman etc. repeatedly. It seems quite convenient that your suspicions would switch to Aman now he's not here. Only minor suspicion since you've been suspicious of Aman for the whole game, but something I noticed. But with that out the way, I think your theory makes sense. Though I don't know of what basis to believe Aman's claim, I don't see why Aman would move one of his own votes, given his concession of being willing to die of the lynch in the game (don't think those were his exact words). I also don't see the purpose of moving the vote in the first place. If I'm looking at this right, Trel had 5 votes and Aman had 3. With the secret vote, that pushes Aman up to 4, but Trel would still be the one being lynched, and I don't see Aman anticipating the secret vote when deciding to move the vote. So, basically, I can't see the reasoning behind moving the vote in the first place. The whole situation is kind of confusing to be honest. Also you've said you're suspicious of Elodin and Joe, can I get a bit more information on why you think this? I'm also getting gut suspicious reading on Conquestor. His enthusiasm for lynching someone, especially jumping on the chance to lynch Mark in D1. Admittedly, the enthusiasm for lynching an inactive player in D1 was when at that moment, Aman was the highest voted and it was nearing the end of the cycle/turn, sort of. He's definitely been defending Aman a lot, plus voting for Mail for simply opposing Aman's planet reveal thing at the beginning. None of these are massive indicators, but they're making me a little bit suspicious.
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I.. can't tell the tone of this comment, and... yeah. My point is I don't understand why I haven't been GB killed yet already. I don't quite understand why you think anyone would have killed me, could you clarify please?
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I am genuinely surprised to still be alive by this point, to be honest.
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Specifically which order? EDIT: With a little bit of help from Lopen I just remembered that Knight Radiants are actual roles in this game... Anyway, Kelen is a proto-radiant then, rather than an actual Radiant, don't want to make anyone think I'm accidentally roleclaiming KR.
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Since I didn't get a chance to post yesterday, I'm going to post RP stuff for both last night and today. Oh, and before I start, can anyone guess what Kelen is set out to become? They set up camp as the night was coming on, the moons becoming visible in the darkening sky, cast against a backing of stars. Kelen quickly found the Tear, and moments later the thing asked him about it, asked what it was, how it got there, what it was for. Kelen couldn't answer most of those questions, not in honesty, but he didn't wish to unnerve the few of his companions that hadn't yet shrugged off their beliefs in Vorinism. The discovery of the Cosmere, of the wide, open universe had destroyed the conceptions of most of any kind of religion. Tel was one of the two who had stuck to their religion, of the five who had begun this journey at Kelen's request. Tel was a close friend of Kelen's. He didn't wish to upset the younger man, the more fragile, perhaps the most fragile one of the group. As such, his answer to the thing was one to offset the question for later, when he could discuss the topic in more privacy. Not that he intended to spend any more time with it than he had to. He still didn't know what it was... perhaps he could ask it later... The group had brought small tents with them, two people to one tent and three to another, with Kelen sharing the smaller tent with Tel. The things were made of a rough linen, and had taken a while to set up, due to inexperience on the part of a few members of the group which included, to his embarrassment, Kelen himself. He had planned the trip perfectly, the food, the supplies, the route. He hadn't taken in account the actual skills he'd need. Fortunately there were others along with him that were able to help, and after the party had completed that task, they set about more mundane tasks. Food was the speciality of one particular member of their group, a man named Abel - strange of both name and mannerisms - who immediately set about preparing something with the provisions brought with them on their pack animal, a lumbering chull which Kelen found most repulsive. With that dealt with, Kelen took the time to wander away from the camp and look around the surrounding area. It didn't take too long for the thing to find him. It had stayed behind to examine Abel's work and, Kelen presumed, to try and figure out what all the dead stuff that they'd brought with them was used for. It had shown an interest in that earlier. Yet now it came up to him, when he was trying to clear his mind and think over his recent findings. Now it came and disturbed him. "Kelen?" It asked, it's voice a cacophony of shifting tones. "Yes?" he replied, exasperated as usual when talking to this irritating creature. "Star the, it is what?" "Oh. Yes, that. I, don't know, if I tell the truth." "You know not?" "Yes, I don't know." "But others the seemed certain." "The others are fools at times." "What about?" "About a great many things, it seems." "They think the star is what?" "Some think it's the tear of Reya. An old figure of mythology. Yet that can't be true, not with what I've learned now." "What you learned?" "The Cosmere, Mist, the whole storming Cosmere." "Ah, Cosmere the." "It's so, big. And so destructive of everything I've always thought I've known." "You will know more." "I doubt that." "You will, I know certain." "What are you, Mist?" "I... I am spren a." "But what kind? And why are you here, following me, talking to me? It's as if the others can't see me." "I... know not. And they cannot." "Strange. Thank you for your honesty, though." "I think not that people can learn honesty without." "I'm almost tempted to agree." He dreamed of a dark place, filled with strange bauble like things through which he fell. A white ball hung in the sky above him, and he swore he could hear Mist's voice. Yet, soon, the sound faded. As he plunged through the blackness, into hell. Kelen awoke to shouting. Shouting and screams. He sat up in seconds, and within instants was outside his tent, and watched as a man brought a sword down in an arc and through Abel's neck. The man took a moment to catch his breath, then looked up at Kelen. Dark, brown eyes. A rogue darkeyes then. Or perhaps, Kelen shook his head, of course. Abel had not been Alethi, of course he hadn't. That name, that accent, those mannerisms. He was not from this world at all. Only that could explain all the facts, one of which was the man muttering something under his breath, which Kelen made out to be "Bloody Worldhoppers". So it was true, Abel had been a worldhopper, a traveller in the Cosmere. And he hadn't told any of them, the reason for which Kelen could not discern in the least. He had more important things on his mind now, though. As a heavy wind blue down across the plains, the man across from Kelen started to approach him, and Kelen reacted by making flight away from him. The man had been wearing armour, quite heavy by the looks of it, and should have probably been slower then Kelen, an estimation upon which Kelen was willing to take his chances. He was already dressed, electing to stay in his clothes the night before to keep warm, and so was ready for an event like this occurring. As ready as a man such as him could be at the very least. The hill disappeared in front of him as he sprinted down it. And then he saw the real threat. Before him, two armies sat locked in conflict, men dying rapidly on either side. A border skirmish. Damnation, they were supposed to miss all of these. He looked over his head, and saw the armoured man barrelling after him, and in that moment, he made a decision, and sprinted straight towards the battle. Mist appeared next to him, her body losing shape and struggling to reform. "Kelen, what occurs?!" She shouted at him. "I don't know!" He shouted back, leaping over a small crevice which was filled with a collection of rockbuds, varying in size and shape. He was nearing the battle quickly, well, quickly in his estimation, and it seemed that it hadn't been as far away as he had thought. It was a wonder he hadn't heard it and woken up, though perhaps the strange armoured man had something to do with that, on which note, he turned his head again, and groaned. The man had been joined by two others, one which had much less armour on, and was beginning to catch up with Kelen. Kelen was not the most athletic man in the world by far, and so far that was playing against him, it was a wonder he hadn't been caught already. His one hope was losing them in the confusion of the fighting, but that of course risked getting caught up therein. Kelen was willing to risk that, however, as the chance of that was certainly lower than the nearing hundred percent chance of being caught by the men behind him if he didn't make this gamble. Ten more minutes, and he crossed into the outer ring of the battle, the sounds overwhelming him. Go round the edge, that's what he'd do, weave in between combatants, and hopefully make it out alive. And so it began. Kelen pushed all his strength into this run, knowing that his life truly depended on it. At first, he had managed to circumnavigate most big pockets of fighting, but eventually, with Mist zipping around him, making noises both confused and panicked, he found himself running along the edge of one, mere steps away from people swinging instruments of death at each other, hoping to end the life of their opponent. Most were spearmen, working in badly organised squads that scattered and regrouped chaotically, never managing to get a single push against the foe to work in their favour. No matter what they did, they seemed to end up on the retreat. This army had not been trained well, even Kelen could figure that out. And it annoyed him. This first encounter was not particularly dangerous to him, however, though he had gotten some worried glances from combatants on both sides of the fight. His next encounter was not so lucky. Mere minutes after leaving the last pocket, Kelen found himself swerving into another group of fighters, and this time, more than a few of them turned their sights on him. In the few seconds he was nearby, he had evoked shouts of anger from both officers and privates. A few seconds later, he found himself bleeding on the arm, having been hit by a thrown blade. The blade had skimmed the edge of his flesh, but had torn away the skin in a small area, and a trickle of blood ran down. Fortunately, the wound wasn't too bad, but that was an encounter Kelen didn't wish to repeat. The rest of his run consisted of more small events like this, much to the utter shock and confusion of Mist, who stopped several times to see what the groups of men were doing. She didn't seem much pleased by it. It was not until he was just out of the battle that his plan really backfired on him. A sudden pain to the side. Kelen looked down to see an arrow sticking out of him, accompanied by a sharp, searing agony, that tore at him. He kept running, kept trying to get away, but it was too much for him. His vision started to blur, and he collapsed, falling to the floor, though still continuing to drag himself forwards, not willing to die yet. The last thing he remembered was pulling himself into cover behind a large rock, and then nothing.
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I... need to read better.
