The Unknown Character

Soccers?

...Do you really want the answer to this question? I know Aman is a troll. I agree with most people that soccer makes zero sense with the flavor of this game, but at the same time, is Aman really crazy enough to claim neutral, claim the existence of Trolling, and claim five separate roles? Good to know. Mind telling the rest of the class who the elims are? Fight! Fight! Fight! There can only be one!

Who's Lamentation? You people are old. I'd believe either, but while I'm not going to vote a neutral on principle, I'm not going to not vote a potential elim because they might be neutral instead. Does that make sense? No. Fadran could be either. That's more than most other people, so I'll go after him, even if he could be a neut. If he is a neut, than we don't really lose anything, and hopefully he's nice and claims before he dies. Please no, this is my recovery village game before I can be an elim mastermind again, I don't need this tainted. Soccer. (Now sit back and watch the world burn) With any luck!

Doubtful. 4D SE with Multiverse Time travel? Understandable, have a nice day. My Sanity Fadran

You guys are horrible listeners, >.>

Well, really, voting people just makes them inactive, so voting isn't that helpful, after all, nobody likes inactive players. I will (kinda not really) risk myself by revealing that this is not in fact a role madness game as I do not have a role. I would strongly recommend that no-one else claim roleless or otherwise unless your death is imminent as... someone suggested up above.

I was going to say that it doesn’t work that way, but this is a blackout game.

False, GM voting is strictly in the villages favor.

"Why, that is an excellent idea." He turned as several Guards came running out. In an experienced commander's voice, Atadin called out, "Okay men, we've got a Captain in some serious trouble. For all we know, he could be almost dead, so we're going as fast as we can. Everybody understand?" "We've got it Commander!" The hound pulled at Atadin's sleeve again. "Okay, let's go girl." The dog took off and Atadin raced to follow, Guards in tow. Davian grunted, thankful that the man hadn't tried to yank it out if his hands, he wasn't sure he would have been able to keep a hold of that, but this slow twist was easy enough to hold on to. Davian shoved the spear forward again, trying to knock Myrto down. Fedrust stepped forward, following the girl, his swords cautiously out in front of him.

Davian ducked. Except he didn't. He was getting tired of that. His vision went from grey to black for a moment, but returned quickly. He turned the spear around and jabbed towards Myrto. Fedrust paused. Man and dog warred in his mind. To lunge and overwhelm the girl or to fight carefully and intelligently. The human part of him won out. He analyzed the girls movements, jumping like some crazed frog. Waiting for the perfect timing; the girl landed from one of her jumps, and Fedrust swept forward, cutting at her ankles with one blade. His other sword was held behind, ready to react. Just then, a bleeding bloodhound came running up to the building. "What in the–, one moment, miss." "It almost looks like Captain Fedrust's hound. But why is she so beat up?" The dog barked, them ran past the men. Ignoring Marcella, they turned almost to follow it. The commander stepped into the main hall, "Marnteret, has V–," he cut off, seeing the bloodhound running up the steps. "Avixius! Forget that Marnteret, I want every Fleshbound and Soulbound pair in the building out here right now, Fed's in major trouble." "On it sir." She hurried off. "What's wrong commander? Is that Captain Fedrust's hound?" "Yes, and he wouldn't be here if he wasn't in big trouble." The bloodhound barked and pulled on Atadin's sleeve. "I have to get other's to help him, I can't do it alone."

Fedrust swept his sword in a wide arc to keep her at bay, then brought his offhand blade down in a hard downwards strike. The Guard looked Marcella up and down. "What do you want?" He had the voice of a man who was naturally gruff, and seemed to not be interested in the answer. When had he picked that back up? Davian thought as he jerked back. Or at least as he tried. The spear stabbed him through before his body actually listened to the command. Grunting at the expected pain, but it was less than Davian expected. That was a problem for later. He dropped his club, then pulled the spear out of his chest, making sure to keep a good grip. Then he yanked the spear, trying to take it from Myrto. And he did walking out of the office. "I hope you won't mind if I take the long way, I need to check on something at the front desk."

Man, you guys are weird. I say this as a neurotypical straight man who's relationship problems narrow down to not having access to a car or enough freedom of schedule see my 'girlfriend' more than once a month or so outside of martial arts.

Fedrust's sword blocked the knife as casually as you would swat away an annoying gnat. "Gonna run out of knives soon," he half said half snarled. He thrust his sword forward, only turning into a slash at the last moment. "Excellent. All that is required is a simple physical test, then you are good to go." He stood up. "I'll accompany you." "Probably Headquarters, just over there," he pointed. "Follow the street until you get to Mendago's, then turn right. It's the big fancy building with a bunch of people dressed like me out front. Can't miss it." Davian tracked the fight. It was odd, seeing the world this way. The man hadn't noticed him first coming in, so Davian had resorted to a more stealthy approach. Silently, he pulled out his club. His hand came up empty. He grabbed again, going extra slow, and managed to get it this time. He swung it at Myrto's head.

"I won't be the one dying today, sweetie. You two killed a City Guard, I can kill you and no-one will bat an eye. Broken Hells, they'll probably buy me a drink." First came his fist, traveling towards her face at a blinding speed, and not far behind came a slash across her stomach.

\/\/\/ Captain Anintino Telrasi Fedrust stepped a perfect step back, and when he smiled at the girl, his teeth were sharp as points and his face was shifting to jut forward like an animal. His beard grew to cover his face and his flesh sagged, forming cheek flaps. His hands changed too, and he tossed his spear away. Crouching low, ready for any incoming attacks, he reached to his back, grabbing two curved swords. They had claws on the hand guards, perfect for slashing and punching.

Branthin, who was possessing of no supernatural senses, kept running. The spear hit him in the worst possible place. Directly between ribs, just left of his spine. He dropped to one knee, then once again drew out his needle pouch. He drew out his needles, then frowned. They both a had a slight tint, one blue and the other red. It was impossible to use a physical used needle for soul manipulation, and it was an even worse fate to be bound with a used soul needle than it was to be Halfbound. His blood drained from his face. He looked back at the fight, and whispered two words. "I'm sorry." Then he withdrew the last item in his pouch. It was a small disk with a hole through it. The hole wasn't in the center, it was from one side to the other, like a tunnel. He then took that same used soul needle, and threaded it through the space where his collarbones met. He let out a small gasp as he felt his soul slide away. But it didn't leave completely. Not yet. He drove the needle through the hole in the disk, the last motion of every Binder that knew they were dying. The blue glow poured out from the needle into the metal. And Branthin's soul flowed with it. Slowly he faded from this world, and all that was left was a see-through blue coin, worth more money than most men ever see in their lives. The hound tried to jerk away, but it wasn't enough. The knife drove into the socket. Not quite deep enough to kill it, but it was a near thing. Go get the commander, came the mental command. And so the dog ran. Fedrust swung the butt of the spear at the girl, and circled around so she couldn't give chase. Davian grabbed his sword. The captain would deal with the girl, so he turned towards the man who had just thrown away his weapon. Now all he had was a shield. Davian smiled. It took him a second before he actually got the expression. Well, he had to hope he could react fast enough to win the fight. And so he charged.

Branthin was an intelligent man, but no-one in their right minds would call him broad. In fact, he could easily be considered scrawny. So without the protection of his shield, he scrambled away. He turned half his attention away from Myrto, calculating distances. He turned, breaking into a dead run towards Headquarters. Davian stood up, dazed. Or at least he tried to stand up. His body moved sluggishly. The world was grey. So much grey. But he saw a few glows of color, very faint blue in the direction of Branthin, a green glow from Captain Fedrost that formed the shape of a dog on its hind legs. Their souls, Davian realized. He could see their souls. What was going on?

As if an unseen master was calling it, the hound leaped off the girl not caring what hair it tore. It didn't quite free itself, so the captain swung his spear but to break her hand free. Branthin jerked back to avoid the spear, but tripped, stumbling to the ground and jerking his shield to protect himself. "Well, this just makes me more grateful I had time to meet with you," he said, keeping the lie up, "I personally oversee the Investigative Squad, and we need all the men we can get. Of course," he added almost reluctantly, "the normal Guard can always use more men. I do not believe we have any open administration spots, but if that is more to your tastes I could always check."

Branthin twirled his club keeping his shield in between him and the man, then swung towards Myrto's head, but pivoted around at the last second, swinging towards Myrto's gut. It whimpered, just barely staying on top. The captain stood up, making sure to keep pressure on his neck and aimed a kick at her head.

...why did this happen?

The hound paused for a moment, then circled around to help its master. Knife and fist landed at the same time, parted flesh whispering and bones crunching. Then, as if seeing the future, Atadin rolled off right as the bloodhound landed. It snapped at the girls wrist, trying to stop her attacks. Branthin stood shakily. Watching the situation, he decided to try to take down the first man, who didn't seem to want to join the fight.

Man and dog howled in unison, the hound stalked back, preparing to lunge but wary of the spear, and the man twisted back from the knife. Snarling, he cocked his fist back to punch the girl. Unaware of the conflict, Branthin ducked forward to Davian. The lad was dying, he knew it. Davian was more than dying, he was quite nearly dead. "No, no, no. Please." Branthin scrambled, half remembered training, but in his desperate search for medical equipment, he found a pouch. He paused for only a moment before taking it out. "Not again." His voice quivered. He took two silver needles out of his pouch. He carefully threaded through the space where the collarbones met. It glowed blue, but it was faint. Too faint. "Break and bind it all, I'm not losing another one." He threaded the needle again. It glowed a little brighter. Again, still not bright enough, but the blood flowed out too fast, it would have to be enough. He slit open the boys uniform at the stomach, then threaded the other needle. Red, bright red. "Thank the binder." He then threaded at the chest, right next to the knife. The colors flared, then faded into him. Shaking, Branthin dropped his needles, sinking beside Davian. "B-Branthin, what's happening? Why is the world so grey?" Knowing that he had done the best he could didn’t help. It hadn't been could enough. Davian was now what the Binders called Halfbound. He would never live a full life again. And Branthin cried.

The hound whipped its head to the side, but spear still smashed through its teeth. Luckily, that put spear in the bloodhounds mouth and gripped tight. Fortunately, the captain's panicked charge turned his body so the knife could only slightly dig into his leather gambeson. It sill gave him a nasty cut, but the dual pain of the spear and knife just drove him further into a battle rage. He kept charging and jumped forward trying to crash into her. Branthin, Davian's partner, seeing Davian on the ground, ran forward with his shield raised to protect him from any attacks.