Fifth Scholar

Wow, you guys really put the “last” in last-second. The Day turn is over! No votes after this post will be counted. The Night turn will be up shortly, but please do not PM until given the go-ahead.

Less than five hours to rollover. Please get all votes and actions in by then.

As stated in the existing rules clarifications, the Eliminator kill is an action.

Please do not directly quote text from a PM, GM or otherwise, unless you are an Eliminator or Mistborn copying something into your doc. And please don’t quote players quoting them, either.

Everyone should have gotten their results back by PM. If you did not receive yours, please PM me.

Then Vin is still responsible for killing all the Subordinates?

De’Tess leaned against the brick wall of the shop, eyes closed, ears and nose twitching back and forth. It was an old trick TrellVin had once taught them. People know to hide their form from sight, but few think to hide their scent, and kandra could smell and hear better than any but a tineye. So they leaned against the wall, waiting, listening, and protecting. The comfortable burn of copper in their belly kept them warm through their long vigil. They could make out the voices of the mistings inside the building if they tried to, but tonight their senses were tuned outward, listening for the telltale thud of a body landing on stone. De’Tess knew in their heart they were being hunted. . . .n you hea. . . Their ears twitched towards the phantom voice, trying to figure out where it came from. They opened their eyes, and looked around. It had sounded like someone was whispering right in their face, but the street was empty. There didn’t seem to be anyone on the roofs either. . . .andra, right? So yo. . . They fell into a crouch, and their flesh shifted, dropping a bone knife into a waiting hand. Someone was there, and De’Tess couldn’t see them. With their free hand, they reached out, and knocked on the door of the shop. The voices inside quieted. “Dedre? Is that you?” Pitching their voice higher, as they had been since deciding on a name, they called out, “Yeah, I think someone is out here.” A muttered curse, from two directions at once. One from inside the shop, as their new allies began to make their way to the door to aide them, and one from a refuse pile across the street. De’Tess flung their knife instinctively towards the pile, right as a crossbow bolt was fired out of it. Knife and bolt met midair in a splinter of bone and wood, and De’Tess sprinted for the pile. . . . atch out be. . . They skidded and spun, facing a voice that had come from nowhere. What was going on? Was someone else there or not? It was all the distraction that was needed. Someone exploded from the refuse, swinging a great big sword. De’Tess spun again to face it, but failed to avoid the overhead swing. It cut clean through shoulder, ribcage, and out the far hip. They gasped as they felt the forcible separation of their blessings. The door to the shop burst open and skaa mistings poured into the street. The swordsman cursed again sprinting away as some began to pursue. More dropped to their knees around De’Tess. Suddenly, another was there. A spectrial, misty figure. Kandra, can you hear me? This is important. Was this Preservation? “Yes, I can.” Their life was fading. I need you to repeat my words. Fynn Seidel's soul wasn't broken enough to contain me. Needed someone more broken, someone who could truly hear me as more than a whisper. Needed to find a spiked. Who is spiked? Vin is, Zane is, is my kandra still with them? What about my brother, can I find him? If i can talk, I can protect Vin. Have to get her away from Zane, away from the servant of that dark god. Bring her back to Elend. Really, I need to get rid of Jastes as well. If she doesn’t have anything to live for, she’ll let him loose. What do I have to work with here? I know every Possibility, but not the Probabilities. Hadrian is here. He’s understandably frustrated. If he figures anything out, I’ll try to convey his thoughts to someone. I should probably follow Lethir, almost certain he works against Elend. Laila is lying as always, and Jumae the 2nd is being one of the smartest people I have seen since I died. It’s hard to get my messages across. No way to hear what people say to me without everyone else hearing. I have too few words for too many ears. Too many secrets. De’Tess whispered the words aloud as they heard them, nonsensical as they were. The villagers crowded around them murmured to each other in confusion. “Have I done good, my lord?” They could barely see anything except the spirit. You did. Come with me, and be at peace. Lethir scowled as Dedre besmirched his good name. With her last words, she cast doubt on him? What the ashes had he ever done to her? He stood up and called to the others. “Come on, we have to chase down her murderer.” A couple of the Pewterarms nodded, and they ran down the street, burning Pewter to catch up with the swordsman. Lethir lead them down the alleyway the swordsman had taken, kicking off the wall to redirect his considerable momentum. At the far end of the alleyway, he could see the swordsmen turn another corner. Lethir flared his pewter and gave chase, the others behind him. “Get back you you craven!” They turned the corner, going wide into the street, just in time to see their prey slam a door shut behind him. Lethir flared his metal as much as he could, trying to close the distance, when he heard a thud and a shout from behind him. He looked over his shoulder, and his heart almost stopped. A man was crouched atop the ruined corpse of one of his Pewterarms. The blood trail leading from the body suggested that the body had slid on the ground from the force of the man’s landing. He stood, and a sudden gust of wind blew down the street, blowing mist out of the street. A Mistborn, cloak billowing wide around him, Kredik Shaw in the distance framing him, grinned. “I’m a bit busy, so I’ll make this quick.” He was surrounded by the 3 pewterarms, so they could still possibly win this. All three of them charged the Mistborn, who only raised his hands. Lethir felt a pressure in his stomach, like something pushing him backwards, then sudden ripping pain, then a terrible snap, as somehow, all the metal in his stomach was pushed out his back, through his spine. Dimly, he heard twin cries of agony from his men, and a woosh of passing air as the Mistborn lept skyward. As he faded, he heard a faint Huh, that solves that. “...and with Lethir’s death, sir, I have frankly no clue what our response ought to be. Clearly the measures young Venture is taking are insufficient to address Lekal’s obvious attempts at sabotage. I advocate an immediate inspection into every official, starting from the top, until this mess is sorted out. I’ll pick men I trust for this one.” “And you think you’re any better, you slimeball? Lord Ruler, you could be one of his agents yourself! How do we trust your advice over Venture’s anyway? How do we trust anyone but ourselves?” “Yeah, that army will be in spitting range within a few days, shorter if we let Lekal’s people kill our best men like they just did. Bloody ashes, they killed a Kandra, and those things are immortal! Might have made it talk nonsense too, even. Inspections won’t deal with the supernatural.” “The only one talking nonsense is you! What do skaa know about army movement and Kandra? If you don’t want to take this threat seriously, perhaps you could use an incentive from a supernatural source...” Elend sat, an oasis of relative calm, as his assembly bickered beneath him on the makeshift stone platform he’d used for the emergency council. He leaned over to Tindwyl. “What’s got into them this time?” he asked. “Quite simply, Venture, terror. Two murders, and no signs of the culprits, make any man fear that he’s the next in line for the assassin’s dagger or coin. It’s a natural response,” she stated, “unfortunately. Terrified men make poor leaders.” “What should I do, then?” Elend responded. “Do?” A wry grin spread across Tindwyl’s face, a rarity. “You can do nothing. Let them decide, and when their decisions fail, allow them to come back to you. Then—and only then—will you be able to destroy the panic gripping them.” Elend nodded slowly. “What if they succeed, though? If their plans do catch spies or that Zane Mistborn? If they help me find Vin?” Tindwyl’s expression hardened. “Then you use the death as a reinforcement of the group’s capabilities, and claim any credit you can. You cannot let your few supporters fall off, Elend, particularly as they’re dying at alarming rates. This Assembly you threw together has to get past this point to succeed.” Elend sighed. “Indeed. Well, to their business—for now. Let’s see who they think is guilty today.” Randuir was attacked and killed! He was a Elend’s Loyalist Smoker 2. Young Bard was attacked and killed! He was a Elend’s Loyalist Thug 1. Day 2 has begun! It will end in about 46-47 hours’ time on Tuesday 21 May at 9:00 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC). Please remember that PMs are closed at day. There will be a lynch today, with no vote minimum to kill. Player List and Rules Clarifications:

The Night is over! Stand by for the new Day cycle—more actions will probably mean a long rollover, so please bear with me. Thank you all for your patience. And please give my inbox a break and stop PMing

You all have 5 hours to finalise any Night actions. Please ensure they are submitted before rollover.

As the player you mentioned is not on the player list, PMing him would be illegal.

Wol the messenger sighed wearily as he wrote out his Master’s third last will and testament. The dull rumble of the ball turned debate turned lynch mob downstairs was making it hard to concentrate on his master’s voice. Usually when the mobs came for his master, they were quieter about it. Lord Hadrian Penrod paused in his dictation. “How long have you been with me Wol?” “My lord? At least 4 years now sir?” Hadrian nodded. “That sounds right. And how often have you seen this situation play out with me?” Wol smiled softly at their similar train of thoughts. “Absurdly often my lord. I couldn’t count.” “Is there anything I did wrong this time? Anything I should have done differently?” “I don’t think so, my lord. Certainly, this time, they could not have used the excuse that you remain below observation and concealed—indeed, your provocative stance seems to have drawn the ire of this group.” “So what ought I to do?” “Clearly, sir, the solution is to return to your previous strategems once this is said and done.” “And be accused of the same, and killed for it.” Wol grinned. “What else, my lord?” Hadrian grunted. “Nothing, I’d suppose. Very well, Wol. Continue. The desk in my study with the secret compartment shall be left in the hands of my oldest and most trusted advisor, a count in Luthadel by the name of...” On the stairs, the footsteps of Elend’s men grew louder. Hadrian smiled thinly. They came to arrest, not kill. Perhaps, this time, when the crisis blew over, he may not have to go to the trouble of dying anyway. He signalled Wol to cease scribing, perhaps to hide, and rose to his feet. He would face this group, and allow them to do their worst. The door burst open. Everyone quieted as the Subordinate formerly known as Count swept into the room. Some of them looked up eagerly, others suspiciously. They knew him for what he was, an opportunist who had abandoned Elend for Cett, and now served their master. They knew his loyalty was to his purse, and they knew that he could very well be their only chance at success in the city. “Well Count? Where is your ally?” The Count looked at the group, hiding his true thoughts on the matter. “Gone. He didn’t show up to our appointment, so I checked in on his house. He’s gone. The house is unguarded though, so we will be able to take all the weaponry we were going to buy. A net win.” He didn’t speak his worries. Fynn had been one of the few who could go toe to toe with the Mistborn that was now hunting them. What could have happened to him? “Good. Then tonight, we can start killing off Elend’s supporters. Who shall be the first we dispose of? Jastes is on a timetable, here, Count. And so are we. That army must enter the city.” Senn Conrad nodded briefly. A heartless man, but then again, most groups he worked for contained such figures. An edge of grimness entered his voice, though. This group meant business. “A good question, sir. Let us get to work.” Araris Valerian was lynched! He was a Elend’s Loyalist Soother 2! Vote Count: Araris (8): Fura, Bard, Devotary, Steel, Ark, HH, Stick, Straw Bard (4): Elandera, Rae, Rath, CadCom Rae (1): Rand CadCom (1): Adavantos Lumgol (1): Araris Joe (1): Lumgol Steel (1): Maill Night 1 has begun! It will end in approximately 23 hours, on Sunday 19 May at 9:00 PM EDT (-4:00 UTC if you need to calculate). PMs are OPEN, as at least 1 player holding Tineye 1 is alive. Please abide by the following rules when creating PMs: 1) One-on-one PMs only. Please include me in all PMs. 2) PMs are Night only. When the Night ends, so does your PM. 3) You may only PM living players listed on the player list. The updated playerlist is provided below for your convenience.

The Day is over! The Night cycle will be posted in an hour or two. DO NOT PM ANYBODY UNTIL YOU ARE GIVEN THE GO-AHEAD IN THE NIGHT WRITEUP TO DO SO. Thank you.

Their PM is Day/Night and indissoluble. As I have no clue of what you are talking about with this “secret role” nonsense, this is clearly a PAFO. My apologies for an extended absence—I was constructing a chicken coop for the last 9-10 hours. As I have relatives over, rollover may take a bit longer to get up, but the deadline for actions and votes is still 9 PM EDT, a little under an hour and a half from now.

She recieves one power each cycle, between Lurcher 1, Tineye 1, Tineye 2, Thug 1, Seeker 2 and Smoker 1. Apologies for any confusion.

The player list is fully correct. However, it may not contain a comprehensive list of those who are interacting with the game through indirect means. For instance, I can be lynched, even though I’m not in the playerlist (and neither is Elend).

Oops, changed one and not the other. Yeah, assassin and first Seeker can still target Coinshot 2s. I need to make these things more uniform. @Furamirionind, Joe is still in the game. Why wouldn’t he be?

No on both counts. Make as many one-on-one PMs as you like. Oops, sorry about that. Should be fixed now.

1. PAFO. 2. Nope! And who says I’m specifying who gets attacked in the writeup if they survive? 2a. By extension, nope. 3. *head spins* Umm...no, I think. 4a-c. PAFO, PAFO, PAFO. 5. Perhaps. 6. PAFO. 7. PAFO. 8. For the purposes of what? Lurchers? Yes. Hope that was helpful.

Vin rolled to a stop on the ash covered roof of the quilt store. She scanned the buildings across the street, looking for any sign of people watching the establishment. Zane landed behind her a heartbeat later. "Anything?" "No metal pulses, no shouts of alarm, nothing from inside the building, nothing moving in the other buildings." The two Mistborn stayed still for a moment longer, before slowly untensing. Vin turned back to Zane, who was just now putting his knives away, even as he continued to scan the buildings they had steeljumped from. "Kelsier took me to this place a few times. We'll be able to get all the supplies we need for the trek to Terris here. Or at least order them." For a quilt store, Reap What You Sew had a wide variety of goods and services. "There is a back door that we can knock at." Zane nodded, and jumped from the roof. Vin flared her bronze and felt him flare pewter to stick the landing, even through his coppercloud. She flared pewter as well and jumped from the middle of the roof all the way over to the wall of the far building, bouncing off in a controlled spring, landing next to Zane at the back door. He had his ear pressed up against the thick wood and was now burning Tin. She did the same. "Next time you come in for shears, I'll tell you if my contact is agreeable to the deal." Vin extinguished her tin. It wasn't her business. "We should knock." Zane glanced at her, and she almost stepped back. The grin on his face was malevolent. "You didn't hear the first part, did you?" She shook her head. "The contact is one of Cett's Infiltrators, still in the city, looking to offload weapons." Vin shivered. "We can't leave then. I won't leave the city until Elend is safe." He turned fully to face her, still grinning. "I agree. His contact is either the Swordsman or the Count, and both are exceptionally competent men. Both escaped me. I was going to hunt them down later, but if they were foolhardy enough to return, then I will remind them why they fled in the first place." Vin burned Tin again and listened. Someone light of foot was fleeing the building. "Messenger boy is leaving. We should follow." The two Mistborn burned steel and took to the sky. ____________________________________________________________________________ "I couldn't see anything." Zane hissed, unconsciously spinning one of his daggers in his hand. "He didn't open the door enough." "I saw the gleam of a sword." Vin looked at the rest of the windows on the red house. They were laying on the roof of the Tormander Hotel across the street and a few doors down from the Cett's house. It had a roof that sloped backwards to allow ash to run off, and no way on or off except through allomantic means. It made an ideal place to stake out their target. "Did the Count use a sword?" "No, he was a powerful Lurcher." Zane removed a coin from his pouch, and balanced it on the edge of the roof, and steelpushed it past the red house. It moved in a straight line, until it hit the building next to the red house. No sounds of panic came from either place. "So, it's the Swordsman, Fynn Seidel." The door creaked open again, and both Mistborn peered over the ledge. A note and some boxings slipped out into the hands of the messenger boy. They watched as the boy ran from the building, back the way he had come. “You’re better with Zinc and Brass. Is he alone?” Vin carefully burned Brass, soothing the occupants of the building. She felt only one calm down. “Only one unsmoked. Did they have a smoker with them?” Zane shook his head slowly. “Then perhaps only Fynn returned to the city.” Zane rose a bit higher, tracking the route the messenger boy was taking at the far end of the street. “The two risked their lives to protect each other. They would not split up.” Apparently satisfied, he ducked back down behind the roof. “We’ll have to wait and see who else he sends messages to.” He slid backwards into a more comfortable position and settled down to wait. _____________________________________________ The door cracked open and Vin tensed, flaring all her muscles at once. She carefully peeked over the roof. Through the misty night, she could see Fynn standing just inside his open door with a crossbow. He appeared to be scanning the rooftops and windows for anyone watching him. Her ashen hair covered her face, rendering her invisible in the misty night air. How long had it been? She had napped for at least two hours, and Zane had now been asleep for one. Before that they had waited at least three hours, but Fynn was finally stepping out the door. Without moving her head, she reached out and laid a hand on Zane’s arm. Immediately, she was yanked backwards, and Zane was on top of her, eyes alight with sudden terror and rage. Instinctively, she steel pushed on the metals in his belt, throwing him off her. He landed on the far side of the roof in a crouch and shook his head. “Sorry.” He looked around, avoiding her. “I’m used to people trying to kill me in my sleep, I won’t do that again.” Vin wished she could sooth her own beating heart. Was she making the right choice? Was she choosing the right man? There was still time to think on that. They were still here. “We’ll talk later. Fynn is on the move.” They peered over the roof again. The door was closed, and Fynn was halfway along the street. They burned pewter and jumped ahead of him. One of them keeping abreast, and one preceding him, as he wound his way through the streets to the Old Wall district. They settled on an abandoned cannery as he approached a pair of Skaa in the road ahead. “That’s a Thieving gang.” Vin scanned the rooftops around them as she whispered. “I recognize those two from a meeting I had with Cammon a long time ago. There will be more.” Zane scowled. “He just gave them a code. They’re going to take him to where Conrad and the Lekals are. Another hive of spiders has grown.” The creak of wood was the only warning they got, but the half second sound was more than enough. Both Mistborn Ironpulled themselves in opposite directions as a wooden bolt buried itself in the stone where Zane’s head had been. “Two Coinshots on Granny’s Cannery! Douse the lights!” The call came from the same direction as the bolt, and Vin spun that way as she grabbed onto the wall. She could see the archer now, reloading his bow behind another man with a dueling cane. The torches on the street went out, and Vin flared Tin to compensate. A hail of coins shot towards the pair but were suddenly pulled off course towards the street below. Vin pushed off the iron lantern hook in the wall, rising to get a better vantage. As she flew skyward, she spotted a man with a thick wooden shield staring up at where Zane was. She recognized him from Elend’s Assembly meetings. Count Senn Conrad. Another crossbow bolt whistled through the air at her. Actually *whistled*, practically screeching that it was there as it came for her. She cursed as she extinguished her steelpush and her Tin. That bolt was meant to make as shrill a noise as possible. As it passed above her, she pushed off the coins embedded in the Count’s shield, and rocketed backwards, away from the fight. She pushed twice more, until she was out of aim of any of the archers. She heard two more whistles and a cry of agony before Zane joined her. He was bleeding from his hip, where it looked like he had torn out a bolt. “I killed the man who got me, but he did get me first.” He scowled and pressed down on the wound. “Those men are far too well trained.” “We’ll have to come back later, when they don’t know we’re here.” Vin tore one of the tassels from her mistcloak and wrapped it around the wound. “So another Noble is making a play for the city. We’ll have to kill them all.” Zane grinned, a dark, bloody grin that promised all sorts of things. “I’ll have to write another song about it.” A shadow slipped between the eaves of the quilt shop, smiling. He saw the two Mistborn—of course, they could not see him. Would not see him, yet. He narrowed his insubstantial eyes, glaring at Zane. He would need to die. For Vin’s sake. Day 1 has begun! It will end at 9:00 PM EDT on Saturday 18 May. A playerlist has been finalised and all role PMs should be out. Please PM me if you did not get yours. There will be a lynch today. There is no vote minimum for a lynch. Player List:

The Night is over. Give me an hour or so to finalise results, PMs, and writeups and I’ll get this show on the road Good luck to all.

Sure. Lerdar grinned as the bumbling manager began to pursue him. One of his first heists had involved long chases such as this one; experience had only bolstered his endurance and speed in such situations; he could always outrun pursuit. It was particularly good in this case, as a quick grab of truly valuable merchandise would sell well on the Market in a month or two, and if he evaded pursuit here he could anticipate significant profit. The man’s cries of “thief!” were growing increasingly faint, and Lerdar chanced a glance over his shoulder. The manager was but a speck in the distance. Perfect; he knew just how to lose him. Swerving sharply into a darker alleyway, keeping his hold on the scissors, he began a series of rapid turns and cuts into ever denser networks of narrow streets. As he went, he slowed his pace, assuming an unaffected gait after pausing for a moment in a deserted alley to tuck the scissors into his sleeves, which held several large yet unobtrusive compartments. Blending back with the crowds on a wider and busier street, he grinned again. Today was going well. Glancing up, a movement in the skies above the alleyway caught his eye. The flicker of a shadow; a small object which slammed into the pavement. A Coinshot. Lerdar cursed. If that fool merchant had Coinshots after him, this was going to become a lot harder. Feigning interest in a hawker’s cries, he swerved in the crowd, then ducked into the mouth of a particularly dark alleyway. A large fist came swinging from behind the stoneworked arch which marked the beginning of the street, and Lerdar barely dodged, pivoting to face his attacker and swiftly drawing out the newly sharpened shears he had taken. Of all the corridors to stumble into... A sharp pain in the back of his head; darkness. “Wake up, fool,” a voice muttered. “Wanna...rest...” Lerdar’s voice sounded distant even to his ears. “WAKE UP!” The sharp cry jolted him to his senses, and he sprang up off the cot, still rubbing his eyes. Was it really morning? His exhaustion showed no signs of abating, so Lerdar gave his head a vigorous shake, and winced. His skull throbbed in the back. The man who had woken him gave a thin smile. “Hurts, doesn’t it? Good. You deserve some pain after what you put me through.” “What do you mean? Where are my scissors?” Lerdar mumbled, then shot his hand to his mouth. Was he really that tired, to expose himself like that? “Your scissors?” came the amused reply. “Hardly. But the men who subdued you took all three pairs. They’re about to regret that decision, as I believe a witness to your theft called one of Venture’s policing units. They’ll likely be blamed for your crime, and you’ll get off. But”—at this point the man had walked over and began stabbing Lerdar’s chest with his finger—“What am I going to do with you?” Lerdar was silent. Whoever this was, they would speak in course. Contact the authorities eventually. He could expect no less. So he clamped his mouth shut, and looked defiantly at the man opposite him. He just sighed. “If I truly wanted a reward, I’d have turned you in by now. Clearly your head still isn’t working after that hit you took. Now listen. I don’t want anything except you. The skills you demonstrated today are extraordinary, if turned to more noble pursuits. Come, allow me to show you a greater purpose...” @Snipexe, a full policing force fully equipped with Allomancers and simple citizens is at your disposal to reclaim the scissors from the three men. (One of them is a Thug, though.)

That is the cycle. No votes will be counted after this post. LG55: Night 0 A Divine Image Ford swung his blade downward at the hand of his assailant. Faced veiled in shadow thanks to the strange cloaks these Mistborn wore, the attacker’s identity was impossible to pin, but it would not matter. Once the man was dead, his identity would be all too easy to figure out. The hooded figure dodged just barely, Shardblade whistling down within inches of the man’s fingers. Bringing it back into a guard position in front of him, Ford spun, whipping his head to try and get a good look at his foe. For his own part, the Mistborn recoiled, obviously chagrined at the failure of his attack. Under the cowl shadowing his features, Ford caught the glimpse of a snarl, and the man’s hands moved to his belt. A sudden pain in his knuckles flared, and Ford dropped his Shardblade involuntarily with a curse. Oddly enough, it failed to vanish, lying on the cobblestones with the coin that had just hit him. The Mistborn grinned, but didn’t press the attack. Not even Pushing on the coin, he ran away into the mists that rose with the setting sun. Ford cursed again. He’d failed to so much as identify his assailant, much less kill him, and his Shardblade stances were clearly rusty. He bent down to pick up the Blade. It was gone. Steeldancer was lynched! He was a Roleless, and survived! Furamirionind was attacked, but survived! One Shardblade has gone missing. Reap What You Sew was raided! Three pairs of Omega-Large Obsidian Scissors have been stolen. Only RP can defeat the thief. Vote Count: Steeldancer (3): A Joe in the Bush, Araris Valerian, Furamirionind Elend Venture (1): Lumgol Night 0 has begun! It will last approximately 50 hours, ending at 21:00 EDT on Thursday 16 May. This night, all players, including those not playing, have access to the ability Sign Up. This ability will guarantee the user an alignment and role at the beginning of D1. All players on the current player list will perform this action automatically. In addition, the character Lerdar has been introduced! He is an Unaligned Thief, and currently possesses the items Omega-Large Obsidian Scissors. Writeup to be edited in whenever I get the chance.

Pinch-hitter sounds wonderful, thank you.

I’d like to quickly interject that I’m absolutely loving the RP from all of you, but especially what @xinoehp512, @Snipexe and @Cadmium Compounder are doing and the story they’re building. Also shoutouts to @Mailliw73, @Arraenae and @Lumgol for the considerable RP they’ve put out. You are all deserving of upvotes Also, as this game will start in three days’ time (72-ish hours), if you’re still on the fence about joining, please make a decision within that time. In particular, anyone who played LG41 and wants a second chance to avenge their defeat is more than welcome to join (thinking especially of @Sart, @MrakeDarshall and @manukos as the co-GM). Thanks to everyone that’s signed up already, and I hope to get this going in three days or so.

If you’re going to reuse characters, I see little need to redefine them. Do you like this store’s management better?