Wyrmhero

Wha-? A noise woke me at my desk. My neck hurt from where I had been leaning down. Must've passed out at my desk or something. I had to get a more comfortable desk to work at if this was going to keep happening. I winced as I sat up, rubbing my neck where the pain was. I picked up the metal nameplate on my desk and looked at myself in its reflection. Good. Didn't seem like my partner had taken the opportunity to do anything to my face. Hard enough getting any respect without having... Ahem, anyway. Clock said it was time to pack up and go home. Maybe it was for the best, if I was sleeping on the job. I'd take another look at things in the morning.

When I got into town, I couldn't help but be a bit exasperated by the accusations flying around. I mean, I knew this would happen, it made perfect sense to lynch Reginald and call an end to this whole saga. At least then we could move on either way. But it looked like people weren't bothering to question anyone else yet again. Only a few people were doing that. Everyone else was just repeating what they did yesterday, it seemed. Seemed mad to me to think we'd get anywhere if they all did that, but who was I to tell them? They clearly didn't want to listen. Quite happy to just keep going round in circles voting for the same guy. We could at least do that while asking pressing questions of others, couldn't we? Not that I felt it was the wrong move, at this point, despite what the metallurgist might think. Sacrifices had to be made in the name of the greater good, sad to say. I hated it, but there it was. Maybe they'd be right, and it'd turn out Reginald really did have an appetite for murdering folk. Don't get me wrong, I didn't think he was innocent. Don't think anyone's innocent, not really. I was sure there was some stuff weighing heavily on his heart. But really, his actions hadn't helped himself. Seemed his attempt at weaseling out of things had drawn a lot of hate to him. But I was a bit of an outsider to that whole event, and found it hard to understand the certainty others felt. But for now, everyone else seemed to have his death firmly in hand, regardless of I personally felt. At least we would move on from this. I actually agreed with Rin's current thought, after hearing what everyone had to say today. Joe was acting a bit strange. He seemed to have done pretty much the same as Reginald, but been avoided by everyone. A mistake, or something more calculated by his friends, drawing to another guy instead of him? Joe tended to say a lot, but very little that was actually helpful. But more, I just didn't like what I heard from him today. Seemed a bit of an odd way to mourn someone, in my opinion. Not the first time he'd gone to lengths to show he was sorry for the passing of someone either. Perhaps it was honest, and the guilt was making him say that. Either way, I felt he deserved more investigation. By 'Joe', I do mean 'Hemalurgic Headshot'. Sorry for the confusion.

Like I said before, there's the law of the Empire, and then there's the Law. Sometimes it's difficult to separate the two; other times, not so hard. Don't get me wrong, laws matter. We need them. It's what makes a group of people into civilisation. You look at the cities and towns of The Final Empire, and compare it to the edge of the world. It's lawless there - Skaa go there to escape the horrors of the Empire, and all they do is steal and thieve and die. Some might think that's better than being squashed underfoot by the Empire, but at least in Luthadel it wasn't likely you'd get your throat cut over the last piece of stale bread you stole from some poor sod just as miserable as you. ...Where was I? Oh yeah, the law and the Law. Point was, there were some things that the Law said was okay, but that the law said was not okay. Sometimes you had to commit a small crime to stop the big crime taking place. A necessary evil, maybe? I don't know, I never liked the idea. But here I am, breaking into the dead guardsman's house in the dead of night to look for clues. I was breaking the law, but for a good reason. It felt wrong, but how could I do anything else if it could stop someone dying? I thought of myself as a good man, but I'd be willing to admit I've done things I'm not proud of, even outside of being a guard up in the capital. This casual bit of B&E bothered me, but I still felt it was for a good cause. Maybe that justified it. Maybe not. I think everyone in this profession ends up going a bit dark. You spend too much time around crooks is the problem. You start to think like them, start to think that you could do things better if it wasn't for all the people and rules stopping you. Maybe it was true; I certainly felt like it was right now, that it was better to break into a dead guy's house to save the village. But I didn't like feeling like that, that I was stopping to their level. Did that make me better in any way than if I didn't feel bad? Hell, I don't know. My partner was always the one asking these things. I don't get on with philosophy, seems pointless to ask those questions when the world's ending. All I knew is that it didn't feel right, but it was better I do something that twiddle my thumbs waiting to die. There was an outspoken Terrisman (well, outspoken for a Terrisman) back in Luthadel I met once, when I was fleeing the city. 'Evil prospers when good men do nothing', he said, like he was preaching to me. Perhaps he was, in a way. I did nothing back then, was just concerned with saving my own sorry skin. But when I got to this village and stopped here, I had time to think about it. His words spoke to me, I guess. It's why I decided to start investigating crimes. Never met the guy again. He's probably dead now, considering he was helping the skaa rebellion. You don't last long doing that. But I do still think about him after all these years. His words still speak to me, deep down. I had no idea if what I was doing right now was right or wrong in the grand scheme of things, but it sure as Hell felt better than doing nothing. Ignore the fact it's actually a commercial...

Say what you will about Terrismen, they certainly weren't as meek as they appeared at first. Maybe it offended Herwynbe on a deep level, to have people suspicious of him. But I wasn't so convinced. My issue was never that he voted for Reginald, but rather that it happened so quickly after the attack was discovered. The first vote on him I thought was also a bit strange, considering the mad woman Matilda had changed votes to save Reginald the previous day. But a single vote immediately afterwards is just reactionary, there's no real thought behind it. The second, however? That looks more considered, more deliberate. The ones afterwards though? That was more follow-the-leader. Let's face it, we skaa aren't known for being great thinkers. I was curious to know why he felt it was justified so early on to second Reginald for the chop. My concern was that we would be in a whole mess of trouble if we didn't take time to consider other options. Hell, I didn't even know why people were suggesting Reginald, but maybe those arguing for it were doing it more as a cover for something. Preventing us from thinking about it by showing us an easy target. The most dangerous thing we had on our hands was a lack of time. The more we waited, the more of us would die during the night to our enemies' assassins. This was our time to try and figure things out, and anyone who even slightly prevented that from happening was a bit odd in my eyes. Enough to warrant a few eyes on them, making sure they weren't doing anything malicious. But then there was the fact that people were just voting again for Reginald, not really discussing it. Discussion was what we would live or die by, and it seemed strange to have so many people just throw his name in without saying why. Hell, even if it was the same reason as yesterday, it'd be nice to know that was it. Otherwise, it seemed odd that so many people had it in for Reginald without any reasoning being said. What suspicions did they have? A vote without reasoning to me at least seemed like suspicious behaviour. You don't have to justify it if no-one asks, after all. Seemed like a good place for a traitorous person to hide in. Was going to TL;DR this as per Hero's request in the Q&A thread, but a) that would've broken the 'all in RP' constraint I placed on myself for this game, and 2) it ended up being longer than the RP itself >>. What I am going to say though, because I want to emphasise it even if it's within the RP above - If you vote for someone, say why. Even if it's the same vote as the previous day, say why again. Discussion is our weapon, and it hurts me to see people vote without saying anything. Note, I'm not saying don't lynch Dalinar, I've really got no problem with that, as it will generate quite a bit of information for us. I am just saying that it is really good to have more discussion, and going into a bit of depth for your reasoning for your vote will generate discussion.

Looks like I called it. We have a vigilante on our hands after all. I didn't know how to feel about this. Vigilante justice has always kinda run opposite to my idea of justice. But I couldn't honestly say that I wouldn't have done the same if I could. The fact that he survived was just as interesting to me. Two people attacked, two people survived. I was almost surprised to hear that Kip had died; I was beginning to think the whole bloody town was under some kind of protection. But there were two possibilities here, and I didn't know which was more likely. Firstly, that Reginald was indeed our man, and was saved by either his own power or his friends helping him, or he was a loyal member of the village, and saved by our enemies to sow confusion. Both seemed possible when it was this obvious he would be attacked, and I found it interesting that some of us were taking his survival as proof of the evil inside him. In my opinion, it did not make it any more or less likely. We had no new evidence to go on. Of course, it was also possible that we had a loyal Lurcher who decided he was probably innocent, but that didn't seem likely to me. People were already pointing fingers again, but I couldn't blame them. However, I didn't like that they all pointed them in one direction - Reginald. Sure, I didn't trust the guy, but it all seemed to be to be a ploy. Easy enough to incriminate a guy by making sure he survives the vigilante justice. In my opinion, that didn't make him any more or less guilty. He could have survived because he had friends in low places, or because he had enemies in low places who thought he'd make for a good distraction. And Lord Ruler, he was making for a good distraction. And that wasn't even considering the innkeeper, Grumbles, who started throwing out accusations. When pressed, he decided not to actually continue making them. Seemed a mite odd, but maybe I was just letting yesterday get to me. Now, this all started with two people, Matilda and the Terrisman. Matilda was a drunkard, true, but she seemed to have other reasons behind what she was saying. Herwynbe, however, he was the second vote, the confirmer of the lynch. I felt he should know better than to start confirming that we should kill Reginald this early in the morning. All it would do was stifle discussion. Especially since the next couple of guys who spoke up followed his lead. A Terrisman couldn't be wrong after all, could they? Well, maybe, maybe not. I didn't care much whether he was right or not when I put his name forward. They say there's honour among thieves and villains, but I've never met one who wouldn't sell his friends down the canal to save his own sorry skin. I felt it could just as easily be him trying to stop us thinking and rushing us to lynch Reginald. I might be wrong, but I wouldn't mind knowing why he felt that Reginald was almost definitely a traitor to the village.

His lordship up at the manor didn't want to see me, that was made plain clear to me. Didn't want to see anyone, as a matter of fact. I grilled his butler for the details, but the guy wouldn't crack. Never said anything about his lord even stepping outside of the place for a stroll in the garden, let alone a secret trip to murder someone. Laid low with a cold, he said. Seemed unbelievable that it'd happen now of all times. I'd trust a Terrisman not to lie though, not like this. Did make me suspicious, but not about the lord. Might be he was being made to be sick, some poisons could do that. But I'm no doctor, I couldn't just physic him back to health with a snap of my fingers. So for the time being, I had to pursue other lines of inquiry. Of course, the village seemed happy to give me them. I came back into town to find an old man swinging from the gibbet, all beaten and bloody. Tensions were high, I knew that, but high enough to kill a defenceless elderly person? Hell, we could've stuck him in bed with the lordship, maybe the cold'd have done our job for us. But too late now. I guess the guy should have been killed by the old laws anyway, being a Soother. Didn't fancy the idea of the Inquisition paying a visit to our fair town. But that would've been all lawful, this was an act of murder, no matter which way you looked at it. The law dictated that I should hang those responsible for what they did to him. Asking around, seemed it was done all democratically. Can you imagine? We overthrow the lords and ladies that pushed us down into the mud by right of birth, and the first thing we do with that freedom is kill each other. It hurt to think it, and I'd never said it, but maybe we were better off under The Lord Ruler. At least he kept the world running and didn't blight our crops or cover the skies in a choking, creeping darkness. Maybe we should be cursing the Survivor, not praising him. Seemed the controversy, as it were, was about a guy being a bit of a smooth talker. Reginald, his name was. I knew him a bit; run into him a few times, sometimes literally. He was a petty thief, but ever so nice about it when I did catch him. “Sorry, Mister Sharpe,” he'd say. “Won't happen again, Mister Sharpe,” “Can you put that knife down please, Mister Sharpe, I'm rather attached to those parts and would like to remain attached to them.” Nice guy, for a crook. Never hurt anyone when he stole stuff. Guess it made sense that people would suspect him, considering he was a part of the village's underbelly. Even if they didn't, they might just be pleased to hang him. Just in case. But again, despite what the law said, I didn't feel like he deserved death for it. Everything seemed to be different, these days. The law was solid as steel on punishments for these guys, but I didn't want to follow through. Hadn't followed through with Reginald before, wasn't going to start now. I could understand why they did it, I guess. Fear brings out these rash actions in people. Hell, if I was still here when it was going on, I might've been one of them. I guess I had my own laws to follow, and they were telling me something different this time. I didn't feel like Reginald's escape-artist act itself was incriminating though. You can't blame a guy for not wanting to die. Sure, a few of the people who pointed the finger at him had some good points from what I heard, but not wanting to die? I can get behind that. Rather partial to life myself. Perhaps now, he'd be a bit more of an upstanding member of the community, help find the real guys responsible, and maybe cut down on the thievery. Or it was a ploy, and he was the guilty party. Either way, I was sure we'd find out soon enough, either by the noose or by a coin.

I went in to the office early the next day. I knew I'd have a few hours peace and quite before my partner arrived, since he had some other work that needed finishing up. It would've been good to pick his brains about the case, but I didn't want to distract him. It was also a matter of pride, I suppose. Can't be asking him about everything, especially when he's not involved. But despite wanting to be opening up shop before nine, I still got there the same time as always. A guy can learn a lot from slowing down and listening to what's being said around him. I'm a nosy person, so what? It's my job to be nosy. Sometimes it annoys people, sometimes it saves lives. Nothing illegal about poking my nose where it doesn't belong. Besides, if I'm annoying someone, I kinda feel I'm doing my job right for a change. Of course, the talk to the town today was Whistler. Guy ran a nice little shop in a corner. If I had to describe him, I guess I'd say he was 'normal'. He kept his shop stocked and spent as much time tidying it as he did serving customers. I knew he had problems with money, but being bad at dice wasn't exactly a reason for someone to want to whack the guy. Well, not unless he was really bad at dice. I'd have never pegged him as a pillar of the community, but apparently someone thought he was a big enough part of this place to want to erase him. Then there was the complication – There always is. The guy was saved by someone, by the way everyone was telling it. No indication of who his saviour was, or his attacker for that matter. I made a note to interview Whistler at some point, start putting the screws to him. Maybe he'd remember something. Hell, I'd even take the clothes his attacker was wearing. At least it'd give me something to go on. As for Whistler himself? Well, I'd seen too many 'normal' guys go bad to trust him, even if he had been attacked. Seen enough people who'd hurt themselves just to make sure someone's hurting even worse. People can be vindictive like that. But, I had no evidence, no reason to suspect that was the case here. It was just a thought in the back of my head. I'd keep an eye on Whistler for a while, see if I needed to revisit that thought later. Sounded like everyone else was of a similar mind. I opened the door, still listening out to the accusations that were flying around, even at me, though the barkeep was a bit nuts, and everyone knew it. Everyone had a theory. None of them were detectives though, they weren't showing any actual proof. Maybe after a while they'd learn to sit down and let me do my damned job. Didn't have any hope in that though. A few murders, and everyone considered themselves a master of unravelling this sort of thing. Well, even listening to that stuff can be informative, I guess. Never hurts to know which way the wind blows. Though if the town was a weathervane, we'd have been blown all over the place and probably snapped off the stand. We were already at each others' throats, and while the chaos might bring something useful to light, it wasn't great for the village. Truth be told, my concern was not just with the people amongst us going round killing folk, but that by the end of this there wouldn't be a town left even if we did bring them to justice. Pessimistic, sure, but just showed how volatile the place was. I stood before the board opposite my desk, and pinned a note onto it. 'Whistler', it read. Starting point for my investigation. Then I placed another on, for the murdered guard. I took a length of string, and looked between the two. Did they know each other? Terrible question, everyone knew everyone here, at least in passing. On friendly terms? Perhaps. Lots of people stopped by Whistler's shop, but buying stuff was hardly incriminating now. So maybe another link? I put a question mark on another piece of paper and pinned at to the board as well. Then I wound the thread between the three points. No proof of this, but for the time being, I would assume they were attacked by the same person. What did we have to go on? Well, for the moment I discarded the idea of Whistler attacking themselves to get some sympathy. If that were true, I'd no doubt that we'd find out eventually. Who would hit Whistler? Was there a reason? Maybe it was just taking out a point of contact for the village. Everyone knew him, after all, and most of the suspects interacted with him at point or another. Best to assume it was personal for now, since anything else would never lead us anywhere. Most kills that looked impersonal had some kind of personal reasoning behind them anyway, in my experience. So who chatted to Whistler most? Well, there was that altercation recently with Nyah and El, but I felt that would be a little too obvious. Sure, the attacker could be thicker than a pound of steel and have made an elementary mistake, but I didn't rate it highly. We wouldn't be in as much danger as it seemed if they were that dumb. So who else? Tekiel, maybe. He tended to spend a surprising amount of time talking to Whistler for someone of noble blood. Could he have been scoping out his first target? I wrote 'Locke Tekiel?' on another piece of paper and placed it on top of the question-marked note. Looks like I had a noble to talk to, and since it didn't seem like he'd been seen in town yet, that meant I had a house-call to make. I wasn't especially hopeful, considering how tight-lipped the nobility were, but not like I'd let that ever stop me. In the old world, a noble could kill a skaa at any time they liked. Probably wouldn't even bother to do it themselves. It was legal, but it wasn't right. The world had moved on since then, though. We may have lived out in the rough parts of the world, away from any major cities, but Luthadel's new ideas had reached us. He may have been healthier, richer and more educated than us skaa, but it didn't mean he was better anymore. Least, not in that way. Either way, point was that it matter whether he was noble or not to me. Justice was for everyone now, not just the nobility, and if his lordship was a murderer, I was going to march him down to the gallows like I would anyone else.

In a job like mine, you ignored the writing on the wall at your peril. People were getting jumpy, looking at each other with suspicious eyes. There were rumours flying around, of course, but considering there was everything between the city being attacked by Koloss and The Lord Ruler returning to save us, well, I'd forgive you if you decided to ignore it. Most people did, sad to say. And why wouldn't they? The world was getting dark enough without listening to rumours. There were maybe three dozen or so who had their finger properly on the pulse of the town. And while a lot of the rumours may have been just that, in my experience there's always a grain of truth to any rumour. And besides, is it really so unbelieveable, any of it, when our self-proclaimed god was killed? Not that I ever really believed in him. Some people in this very town believed in obscure religions, and others were starting to worship the Survivor, the man who set everything in motion to kill The Lord Ruler. I could understand them. But The Lord Ruler? I could never believe in him. He was too real. I've seen him in person, had front-row seats to watch an execution. I've felt his power, the effect he has. If you have no faith, because you know it to be true, then why bother believing? I know I never did. But anyway, point was, I knew something was wrong in this town, and didn't like it one bit. So, I did what I always do when I need information, and turned to an informant. Jimmy 'Two Hands' was a skaa orphan who lived a rather nicer life than you'd expect an orphan to have on the streets. Of course, if you knew him, you knew why; Two Hands might be young, but he knew more than any other informant in this town about what was going on here. If there was truth in the stories of Koloss attacking us or what have you, I knew I'd find it here. The kid had a little bolthole on the south side of town, nice and discreet. I lent against the door with my back, watching the crowd pass. Then I rapped on the door with my knuckles, waiting for the little slider to open. "Yes?" "Sharpe," I responded. No need for any sort of password, Two Hands' hired goon knew me. I was let in and shown to a dusty chair. I chose not to sit down, and waited for him to make an appearance. Eventually he did, and I couldn't help but scowl at him. The kid always liked to dress like a noble when meeting people like this. It annoyed me, but I guess a lot of things have that effect on me. It wasn't the clothes, really, but the spirit behind them. He wanted to think he was better than me, and let me know he thought that. Well, I might not have as much of a lucrative job as the kid, but I didn't agree. At least he'd finally grown into the clothes; when he was actually a kid, instead of just being young like now, they really didn't fit him. I do wonder sometimes how he stole those clothes. Maybe the steward up at the manor was bent. Might be info worth saving for later, if needed. "Wyl," he said, shaking my hand and acting like a smug git. "What can I do for you?" He led me into his makeshift office and sat down. "You've done some redecorating," I said as I sat down and looked around. "Last time I was here, this place was a dirt hovel. Now you've got tables and everything. You've really moved up in the world." "Yes, well," Two Hands said, snapping a little, "the changing world is a great thing, if you know what to do with it." "The 'changing world', as you put it, is what's upsetting people," I responded. I took my pipe out and looked at him. Like the sanctimonious bastard he was, he waved me an okay like he was doing me some great favour. I really didn't like the fact that I kind of thought he was. I lit up, and took a small drag on it. "People are running around headless, and they don't know why. Now, we've had a few murders lately, so that'd scare people, I get that. Problem is, I think it's something more. Something bigger. And I'm gonna find out what." "Well, sounds like you have everything sorted then," Two Hands said, leaning back in his chair. "So I don't see what I can do to help you. I mean, I don't think I could've possibly heard anything that could help you..." he trailed off, and I sighed. From my pocket, I pulled out a few Boxings and placed them on the desk, sliding them towards him. They disappeared almost immediately, into that ridiculous coat he wore. He leaned in, a bit dramatically. It was showmanship, the bread and butter of his profession. "They say that villages are disappearing off the face of the earth," he said. "Koloss are running rampant around The Final Empire, or whatever we call it now. People are saying this place is next." "People?" I asked, "What people?" Two Hands didn't say anything, not until I tossed another coin at him. He pocketed that one too and only then did he say something I considered worth the money. "There are a couple of people going around. Doomsayers, sort of thing. They're going around proclaiming the world is ending. Maybe some of them are mentioning Koloss?" he said, with a small smile. "There's something else," I said, pressing him further. "You wouldn't still be here if you knew the town was doomed. So why are you here instead of anywhere else?" "Who knows?" Two Hands shrugged. "Maybe there's nowhere left to run to. Maybe I just trust you guys enough to figure out who those doomsayers are. See, I think we can just about hold out from Koloss. It'd be tough, but long as we have our wall and enough people, we can survive." He spread his hands out in a half-shrug. "But if not, well, I still have enough time to run. Does that satisfy you?" "No," I said, gritting my teeth. "They're paying you to spread rumours too, aren't they? Or at least, they're paying you not to say who they are." The egregious bastard. He was grinning at this. Profiting off our town's misfortune. There was nothing strictly illegal about it, considering he operated in a grey area anyway, but my gut said there should be something I should be able to do about it. Even if I couldn't book him for anything, and even if I used his informant services myself, it still hurt to see him disrespecting the law in that way. "Such a shame," Two Hands stood up, moving around to the side of the desk I was sitting on. "I'm afraid we are out of time, and I have other people to see. Good to see you, Wyl. Please, do let me know how you're getting on; I'm sure we're all dying to hear." He chuckled at his own joke as his bodyguard escorted me out. He'd grown up now and dressed all fine and acted like he was in charge, but it was obvious to me that he was still a kid. The door slammed behind me, and I scowled. I emptied my pipe out into the grass beside me and put it away. Question was, what did I do now? I guess I would have to pick up the trail tomorrow, see if I could find anything at the murdered guard's house. I left that place with my mood sour; Unlike Two Hands, I didn't see what was so amusing about all this.

Finale, or: House Falls, Almost Everyone Dies "Ready?" Konwa asked, leaning her shoulder against the door. She looked at Aralis and Sheon, who stood behind her, also bracing themselves against the wood. They nodded to her firmly, steeling themselves for what they expected would just be yet another failed attempt to access the outside. "On three," she said. "Wait," Aralis asked, waving away the little person that had taken to standing on his shoulder and standing up properly to look at her properly. He rubbed his neck, which was getting a tad sore from the posturing. "Is that on three, or after three?" "...After three," Konwa clarified. "So on four?" Sheon asked. "What? No, after three, no-one says on four." Konwa said, frowning at them both. "Look, just when I say now, okay?" They nodded and pushed themselves against it lightly. "Now!" Konwa shouted, and the three of them heaved against the heavy wooden door. At first, there was nothing, but then there was a horrendous creaking that cut through the silence of the dead House. The door started to shift, dirt dislodging itself and falling on top of them. Then, finally, the door pushed open. They stepped outside, blearily, into the sunlight. It was strange how much brighter it seemed, despite the fact that they could see it perfectly fine through the windows. "We're out," Aralis said, grinning at the other two. "Colours, we're out!" "It wasn't even two weeks," Sheon said, though despite that fact, he too was feeling lighter than he had done for many days. "Well, I'm just glad to leave the damned place," Aralis said, shutting the door for emphasis. It was strange how small and light it felt from the outside, and he pushed it with far more force than was intended. The door slammed shut with a crashing sound, the shockwaves reverberating through his hand and the door frame. From the frame, cracks began to appear in the brickwork, traversing further and further away along fault lines until it seemed the entire House was covered in them. For a moment, nothing gave way. Then, everything collapsed in a cacophony of noise. "...We didn't get the others out first," Konwa said, slowly and delicately. "...It was not my fault," Aralis replied much quicker, peering around the door at the debris. He jumped over the first bit of rubble and started to dig through, looking for someone he could heal with his newfound powers. He looked back at Sheon and Konwa. "Well? Why are you standing there?! Give me a hand!" With a sigh that was born from exasperation and frustration, the pair of them made their way over to help. By virtue of apparently being the only active players left, the Explorers win! Spectator Doc Traitor Doc Dead Doc Master Spreadsheet

Just gonna leave this here... http://magic.wizards.com/en/articles/archive/news/january-9-2017-banned-and-restricted-announcement-2017-01-09

You've just explained why I should not be answering you :P.

Fixed. You'd think I'd remember when I only have to keep track of a few people...

Night 11: The Sound of Silence On the world of Sel, there was a room where the voiceless spoke. It was a room of regrets, where those that had entered the hell-on-earth that was the ruined city of Elantris always ended up, their minds shattered repeatedly by the continuing, unending torment of mere existence. A persistent itch in this place could lead to clawing off the skin entirely in search for solace. The cursed beings of the city could not escape their fate; Sanity was in short supply, and even those that tried to resist it could not help but eventually give in. Within the building, the insane gathered as though moths to a flame, drawn together by those like-minded, though they could not understand what brought them to this point. They had no thoughts of their own, no ability to comprehend the world around them through their pains. Inside, a hundred voices repeated their meaningless mantras, talking without speaking. They were in their own, personal worlds, unable to listen to the others in the room around them in the same position. Their words washed over them like a wave, each one slowly eroding down the mind, like a drip of water on a stone. It was a madness that was both magically induced and yet entirely mundane. It was as though those within were trapped within time, reliving the moment where everything became too much, over and over again. For them, the world outside simply ceased to exist. Their pain became their entire world, their purpose and their punishment. Eyes flicked to those who entered the room, but didn't see them. They could not - their world had simply ended, consumed with the despair they felt. On the world of Nalthis, there was a similar room. They did not speak, but the Explorers couldn't see why not. They did not appear to have anything wrong with them physically that would prevent them. There was no lingering marker of magic that danced across their skins or left its image upon them. They simply ceased to exist, dreaming without being asleep. The world passed them by, while their minds played images of their own in front of their eyes. Ghosts danced before their vision, a torturous show all of their own of their own making. They lived in the past, their sins returning to haunt them. The House had broken them, and so they sat here, in this room, and pretended it didn't exist. But even in their own worlds, they could not escape its evil influence. "There she is," Aralis muttered, pushing Konwa forward. "Why me?" Konwa asked, brushing Aralis' hand off his shoulder. "You do it." "Not a chance," Aralis held his hands up, shaking his head. "This place completely creeps me out." "It does that to all of us," Sheon rolled his eyes as he stepped forwards towards Shara, or at least what was left of her. When they came up to her, she was sat on the floor against a wall, toying with a silver box in her hand. It was small, and could not contain anything that big, but considering the material the box was made from, it certainly contained something valuable or precious. Potentially both. She did not say anything as they approached, nor even acknowledge their presence until their shadows blocked out the candlelight. At that point, she finally looked up at them, but she still did not really seem to see them. She continued to fidget with the box, moving it from hand to hand as though it was too hot to hold in one for a long time. "She doesn't look like a killer," Konwa muttered. "Do any of us?" Aralis countered. "Do you think any of us looked that strange when we first came here? Billy or Arinian or Alberd... Appearances can be decieving, can't they?" "I suppose," Konwa nodded, kneeling down before her but continuing to look at the two he had come here with. "But I want to be sure before. I want to ask questions. I at least want a clear conscience if we do this. She's hardly in her right mind, is she?" She turned back to Shara, "Hello, Shara. Do you remember me?" Shara squinted a little, her hands still moving. She shook her head and stopped looking at him, returning to the object in her hands. "It's Konwa," she said, slowly, as kindly as he could manage. "We want to ask you some questions, if that's alright." She said nothing. Konwa sighed. "Do you know what happened here? What's going on?" She said nothing. "Real good work there Doc," Aralis said. Konwa scowled and turned back to him. "I'm a damned BioChromatic researcher, not an interrogator!" She pushed himself up violently and slapped Aralis on the back, pushing him forward. "If you think you can do a better job, then you do it." "Hey, hey," Aralis said, as he was pushed forward. Then he sighed. ""Well, I guess we might as well start with the obvious question; what's that box?" Finally, Shara spoke. "It's mine." "That's not what I asked," Aralis said, gritting his teeth. "What's in it?" "...Memories," Shara said, after a pause. Then she drew it closer. "It's mine," she added. "Oh for..." Aralis grabbed the box off her, overpowering her easily as the people here were suffering from malnutrition, whereas the rest of them had enough of a mind to them still to eat. "Let's have a look then," he said, prising it open. "Mine!" Shara shouted, tackling him to the ground with surprising force and knocking him to the side. They landed roughly, Shara next to the box, Aralis on the floor beside her. But the box was open, and whatever was inside it seemed to absorb and trap the light around it. It pulsed strangely, making it visible despite the fact that it was practically made from darkness. She made to grab the box, but was halted as whatever was inside started to move. It rose up in a spiral, passing through Shara as though it was not there. As it travelled through her, she seemed to fade a little, losing all colour as though the heat were drained from her. Then her face became thinner, shriveling until it was just a skeleton. Then, as the darkness settled itself in an amorphous cloud above her, her body fell to the ground and shattered like ice, a fine layer of dust covering the floor. But the darkness was not content with simply taking one life. It swirled around the room, before launching itself at Aralis. He rolled out of the way, barely managing to avoid the thing. Then it turned around and raced towards Konwa, aiming straight for her heart. He was only saved by Sheon's timely intervention, who pulled him out of the way and into the wall. Konwa grimaced as her shoulder slammed into the unforgiving stone, but all things considered it was better than she had any right to expect. Instead, the shadow passed through the body of Mark, who was one of many people in the room unaware of the danger they were in. His body turned to dust before it even hit the ground. The shadow carried on moving through the wall behind Mark as though it wasn't there. Aralis slowly got to his feet, eyes glued to the wall where it had disappeared. The three of them made their way to the centre of the room and stood back to back, each person watching a third of the room. The day carried on around them, the light slowly fading and dusk eventually breaking through the window. There was no sign of the shadow, but even after several hours watch, none of them were willing to breathe a sigh of relief. Shara (Nyali) was a Shade-Trapper with a Silver Box! The Silver Jewelery Box Omen has been vanquished! Shara/Nyali (3): Dr Konwa Arelle (Wonko the Sane), Aralis (Arais Valerian), Sheon Idris (Seonid) Shan Idris/Seonid (1): Shara (Nyali) Mark (Mark IV) was an Awakener! Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

Day 11: Bump in the Night Aralis woke up. It was not something he expected, considering the sharp, blunt pain he had experienced immediately (to his senses at least) beforehand. But already, that was numbing, soon to be a distant bad memory. For now though, it hurt like seeing a room that someone had decided to decorate in red and green side-by-side. No sense of colour, some people. But just like colours would fade, so too would the ache at the back of his head and the lump it had caused where he had been struck. But he couldn't sit here on the floor, waiting for that moment. Slowly he pushed himself off the wall where he had been left to die, and onto shaky legs. Aralis (Araris Valerian) was attacked, but survived! Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

It's a reference to Undertale (which in turn contains it as a reference to Earthbound) when nobody shows up to a battle because you've killed everyone >>.

Night 10: ...But Nobody Came Locke (OrlokTsubodai) was an Explorer. Locke/OrlokTsubodai (2): Sheon Idris (Seonid), Aralis (Arais Valerian) Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

It began, as all of my problems do, with a woman. It was twenty past five, and I was doing some filing in the back office when there was a knock on the door. Of course it'd wait until I was about to go home. No rest for the wicked, right? I waited a few minutes to see if my partner would get it, before remembering that he was finishing up another case out of the office. I put the files I was looking through on the cabinet and went to open the door. The woman flinched a little when she saw me. I guess I know I have that effect on people, but it still hurts to see it. She was a mousey little thing, looked a little nervous in general. I invited her in as I scrambled to think of where I'd seen her before; the village is small, and everybody knew everybody, to some extent. I'd seen her at something official, always hanging back out of the way. Not important, but important in a way. She introduced herself, and I remembered who she was. Mayor's wife. Well, ex-mayor now, these last few weeks. Widowed so young with a baby on the way. It truly was a tragedy, but the whole world seemed tragic these days. They'd got his killer, strung 'em up a week ago, so at least there was some sense of justice. But I wondered, did that matter to her? It wouldn't make a difference to her kid whether the killer was caught or not. They'd have to grow up without their father either way. “What can I do for you?” I asked, shaking my head of these thoughts and pulling the chair back for her to sit down, and then sitting down in my own chair behind the desk. “How can our agency be of assistance?” She told a dark story, of one of the guardsmen on the walls that had been murdered earlier this day. I didn't see the relevance at first, but as she started to break up and cry, unable to finish a sentence, the pieces all fell into place. Same way the love of her life had been killed. But his killer'd been caught, so that meant there was some kind of criminal group going around. The elders of the village apparently thought it was a smuggling ring. Those idiots wouldn't know the first thing about how to do my job. Sure, I hadn't been a guardsman in Luthadel for several years now, but I could still smell a rat. You get a feel for these things. To me it looked like something much bigger. Those fools couldn't see that the deaths were connected. They thought small, while I was more concerned with the bigger picture here. We're a small town, there's not many murders going on here. Two in a month though? They had to be connected. But if they were, that meant something huge was building up. You don't whack the mayor like that and then do it to a guard just to be able to hock your stuff on the black market. With the mayor dead, the village elders would run around unable to mount any sort of plan, leaving us vulnerable. The guard's death would let them come and go from the village easier. So the question was, what was their plan? I didn't like this one bit. I reassured her that we would look into it. I didn't bring up our fees or anything; with the world how it was these days, and her being like this, it seemed like a pretty pointless thing to do. Cruel, even. I like to think of myself as a good man, when I'm in a good mood at least. I opened the door for her as she left, listening to her trying to hold back tears. Lord Ruler, I hate this job sometimes. But I wouldn't, couldn't, do anything else either. I couldn't look at myself in the mirror if I just let this go. We had to do right by those who had died, and bring this group of murderers to justice. It was important, not just for closure, but for the safety of the people of this village. Justice was not only about punishing the perps, but preventing it from happening again. It might seem strange, considering I'm not one of the guard or militia, but I wouldn't do this job if I didn't care. Old habits, maybe. You could even call me an naive idealist if you like, with this idea of any sort of 'justice' in the world – Hell, I'd even agree with you there – but, I guess it matters to me. Sometimes it's tough, but I'm still here. I returned to my desk and sat down. I leaned back in my chair and pulled out my pouch of dried, crushed leaves. Herbs gown from the isles in the south. Expensive, but every time I took a sniff of the stuff it reminded me why I bought them. I took a pipe out and reached into the pouch for a pinch of the stuff. I frowned as I felt almost nothing left. I'd only bought the stuff a few days ago, and merchants were few and far between in this Lord Ruler-forsaken town. Still, I struck a spark with some flint, sat back and took a drag on the sweet-smelling herbs. After a while, I decided it'd be best to get out there and have a look. It might be late, but I was used to working the late-shift. Not like anyone ever asked me if I wanted to go home and kip when they brought their problems to me. I finished my break and emptied the ashes into a clay pot. Then, I got up and went to the door. I took my coat and hat from the rack, and picked up my dueling cane. I patted myself down to check I had no metal on me before I left. You could never be too careful these days. So, dreading the long night ahead and wishing for a stiff drink to see me through it, I went to snoop around the murdered corpse. It was pretty obvious where it was, 'cause there was already a crowd of gawkers there for the free show. I don't know if the guard was married, but his family wouldn't appreciate their neighbours using him like this. But that wasn't my problem. When I got eventually squeezed my way through the crowd, and convinced the other guards to let me take a look, I found my partner was already on the scene. Funny guy. We met several years ago and tried to kill each other. Now we're firm friends. Go figure. “Poor bastard,” I shook my head as I examined the body. Now, I had no medical training, but I'd guess from the hole in his throat and the bloody knife next to him that he died from a knife in the throat. At least he won't have hung around long after that. Not really quick, but could be worse. Not that it would be any consolation to the guy. I looked up to my partner. He was worried, he saw the writing on the wall just as much as I did. Neither of us liked what it said. But then, weren't we all worried these days? When the world starts to end, you get a bit like that. Stuff starts unravelling at the seams, stuff like people. But thoughts like that didn't help us solve this case. I took my pipe out. If anything called for something to settle my nerves, it was this. I filled it up again while I asked my partner to bring me up to speed. As I light up and listened, I sighed a little. It was going to be a long night. Signing up as Wyl Sharpe, who will be taking the Cosmetic Role of Guardsman, despite not having been an actual guard for many years.

I am afraid that I will not be offering extensions on Turns.

Day 10: Awakeners of Hallandren Exion took a deep breath. It was perhaps not an exaggeration to say that this was the most important decision he might ever make in his life. Certainly all the others seemed inconsequential compared to those that had come before. And yet, in a way, they were all equally as important. Each of them had led to this moment, had honed his skills in some way to allow him to reach this point. To say he was a gambling man was an understatement. He had lost more fortunes on cards and dice than most people saw in their lives – And yet, impressively, he was just about in the black. He did not believe in luck, not as such. Everything could be twisted and turned, and even games stacked against the gambler could be flipped on their heads with the right strategy. It was all about organising the chaos that chance gave, and exploiting the openings they left. Even with games that were, on the surface, all about players' luck, there was a wealth of strategic play on the betting level. It didn't matter what game he played, he was almost equally skilled in them all, assuming he knew the rules. Not because he had spent a long time practising, but because he knew how his opponents worked. Only a fool played the game – The winner played the people playing it. Usually that resulted in him winning; others, the odds were simply against him, and he could do nothing even if he had played his best. But the important thing was that he knew when the reason was skill, and when it was luck. He came to a decision. “...The 'Idrian Thief' moves to the 'Forest' hexagon here,” Exion said with a final release of breath as he placed the small wooden figure on the board. It was never a bad idea to deny your opponent 'Lumber' cards, after all. “Let's see your hand.” His opponent scowled beneath the dark, hooded cloak he was wearing – He could tell from the body language rather than reading the face the scowl was on – and spread his hand out so the backs of the cards were facing Exion. Exion ignored the rude gesture that was rather coincidentally made at the same time, and took a card from it. He couldn't help but grin when he saw that he had stolen the 'Lumber' card from the hand. Just what he needed this turn. He surveyed the board. Eight points to nine, for the moment. He laid down four cards, two 'Lumber' and two 'Clay'. “I'll build two roads,” he said, placing down the coloured wooden sticks on a 'Jungle' hexagon and a 'Clay' hexagon, “and take the 'Longest Road' victory card.” He reached over and snapped up the small board that signified it. The card was worth one point, so it was a two-point swing when stolen from his foe. Nine to eight now. And he was in the better position to win going forwards too - he had more cards in his hand, and a more useful economy than his opponent. The odds were in his favour that he would get the one point he needed before his opponent got both the points he needed. And that was good. He was, quite literally, gambling with his life here. His life, for the identity of his foe. A poor trade, one might say, but he was desperate, and their identity being known would almost certainly result in their death as sure as if they were gambling their own. They both knew the stakes, but both had agreed to it. They had not cheated, at least not that Exion could see. It really did seem that they intended this to be a fair fight. His opponent flipped over an 'Awakener' card he had purchased earlier in the game. Exion grimaced a little as he saw the 'Lifeless Guard' on its front. His opponent picked the 'Idrian Thief' up and moved it to a patch of 'Forest' that Exion was harvesting. Exion sighed and held his hand up. His opponent took the 'Dye' card in his hand, which he had been intending to save to build a 'Settlement' to secure the final point. It was a minor setback though, at this stage. By next turn, he would be able to draw another 'Awakener' card himself or use his own 'Lifeless Guard', which would give him the points or resources he needed to secure victory. It wasn't certain, but it was probable. Then, his opponent picked up the pair of dice in their gloved hand and threw them across the table. They clattered a few times as they rolled, before landing with a single dot facing upwards on each. Exion's eyes fell to the board as he checked what hexagon had the number two marker on it. It was a 'Jungle' tile, and his opponent had a single 'Settlement' on one of its edges. He wasn't sure if that was lucky or not – It was the only source of 'Dye' his opponent had. Either it was crucial, or entirely useless for his strategy. Prior moves suggested the latter. His opponent picked up a 'Dye' card from the stack by the box. Then, silently, his opponent tapped one of their 'Settlements', then unfurled their hand – Two 'Dye', three 'Lumber'. In other words, his opponent had enough to build a 'City'. But that was only a single additional point. They were still nine points apiece. They raised a hand up to shake his hand, which confused Exion. “The game's not over yet...” he said, though now he wasn't so sure. His opponent's other hand scooped up the cards next to him. Four 'Lifeless Guards'. Whereas he had – Oh, he didn't play the fourth, he was saving it for later. He only had three. Which meant that his opponent now had stolen the 'Largest Lifeless Army' victory card, which itself was worth a point as well. Exion smiled weakly and shook the proffered hand. “Well played.” Elsewhere in the House, a solitary figure crept through the hallways, holding fast to the weapon in their soul. There was a voice that called to them, that beckoned to them. It drew them inwards, further to the centre of the House. Was it Kasther? They weren't sure. The voice echoed and reverberated inside their skull, making it impossible to make out any sort of source. Then it was replaced by something else. A thump. Followed by a second. Followed by more. A rhythmic thumping sound, that of a heartbeat. There was no 'heart' in the room, but the source was fairly clear – In front of them, the first Lord Heron's portrait. It did not move nor make any sounds, but it was clear. This was where the evil was from. Taking a deep breath, they reached inside themselves, and called forth the weapon that would drive away the darkness. When they were done, the portrait was bare. Where Lord Heron had been, there was instead in the painting a vicious scar, as though someone had painted a tear in the painting rather than a person. The voice in their head disappeared. Sighing with relief, they shuffled away. Exion was an Explorer with a Vial of Zinc! The Heart of the House has been slain! Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

Night 9: Liar When Arinian woke up in the morning, he found half a dozen people all looking down at him. Before he could even voice his defence, not that he would say he had any, he felt something hempen being draped around his neck and then tightened. Arinian was a Forger with a Vial of Pewter and a Vial of Copper! Arinian (6): Dr Konwa Arelle (Wonko the Sane), Shara (Nyali), Aralis (Araris Valerian), Exion (Unodus), Sheon Idris (Seonid), Kresla (Elbereth) Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

Day 9: Redshirts The red-cloaked man shuffled across the corridor, keeping his back to the wall as he went. One foot slowly and carefully placed after the other, with the intention to make no noise whatsoever with each footfall. Stealthily and steady he went, each move calculated beforehand to minimise the impact each step would have on the cobbled-stone floor. Paranoid? Perhaps. But he would gladly be paranoid and alive than uncaring and dead. So what if he looked foolish right now? There was no-one around to see him anyway. He came up to a door, which was ajar enough to create a little shaft of light into the corridor. The beam of sunlight was interrupted every few seconds by the billowing shadow of a curtain, dancing in the breeze. An open window, perhaps? It might be their ticket out of here. They’d searched in vain for open windows or keys, or even something heavy enough to smash the thick, seemingly indestructible glass. Now, assuming the House hadn’t somehow reconfigured itself, they had a way out. There was a thud, and another interruption to the light he could see. Carefully, he put his hand on the door, pushing it and praying it would not creak as he did. Unfortunately, his prayers went unanswered, and he winced at the sound of the metal hinges. The moving door revealed a hand on the floor, but nothing else at this point. Behind the door, he heard a footstep, followed by another, more hurried. Wasting no time, he threw open the door, stepping through it. The door caught on the corpse behind it, and he almost slammed his stomach into the handle. He narrowly avoided it and whirled around the door to face the killer. He caught a glimpse of a travelling cloak whipping round the corner of a secret passage, and chased after it. But before he could slip through after them, the stone door slammed into place, forcing him to slow down abruptly so he wouldn’t charge into it. He sighed and put his back against the door, slowly sliding down to the floor. He rested his arms against his legs and sat for a moment, his heart still pounding as he contemplated what had happened. A second earlier, and might that corpse still be breathing? If he wasn’t so cautious, would he have saved them? Or would he have joined them on the floor? He pressed a hand to the floor and pushed himself back up. He dusted down his hands as he went to identify the corpse. As he got closer, it was pretty easy to see who it was; there weren’t many women stuck in here, after all. He carefully moved Khaos’ body so it was facing upwards, so he could inspect the damage. A bloody scar across her chest indicated how she had died, but did not help to identify the weapon used. The blood had spread across her shirt, dying it a rich, deep sanguine red. “Get away from her!” He dropped the body, wincing a little as a little more blood broke through the cut across Khaos’ skin and seeped onto the floor. He held his hands up defensively. “I didn’t kill her,” he said. Blood dripped from his hands onto the floor. “That’s what they all say.” The other person said, advancing. “I found her like this! They escaped through the wall. Over there!” “A likely story,” they said, “but don’t think you can trick me that easily!” they continued, stepping over Khaos’ body. He backed up against the wall, but his accuser did not stop. “Wait!” he shouted, holding his hands up to show his surrender. They did not accept his surrender, and stabbed forwards with the knife. At least, he thought as he started to lose conciousness, the blood wouldn’t show against his uniform. Pity he decided to wear the same colour trousers too. Khaos (little wilson) was a Mistborn with a Vial of Copper, a Vial of Steel, and a Mixed Metal Vial! The Guy in the Red Uniform (Ecthelion III) was an Explorer! Kas and I are both busy on Thursday at 9PM GMT, so while the Turn will end at that time, I will begin the new Turn on Friday the following day at the usual time. Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

LG28: Night 8: Not Enough Rope In the quiet of the study, a few voices discussed the goings-on over the previous night. Accusations were thrown, mostly in one direction. Aralis took it upon himself to be the voice of reason and act as an advocate for the other side. He just didn't want someone who might be innocent to be killed for no good reason, even if he himself was considering a vote on Arinian. But in the end they could not come to an agreement that they were happy with (especially Arinian, who was rather put out by the idea of being hanged), and with so few voices being heard, decided that they should leave it for the time being. After all, there was always tomorrow. The lynch was a tie! Arinian/Arinian (2): little wilson, Unodus Aralis/Araris Valerian (2): Aralis (Araris Valerian), Arinian (Arinian) Night 8 has begun! While it will end at the time noted below, I will not be around at the time to do rollover - hopefully Kas will be around to point out it's the end of the Turn. PMs may not be sent after the time noted below, and I will not accept any actions dated after then. While strictly speaking I could do the same on the 24th and just accept votes until 9PM, I know at the very least I have plans for Christmas Eve, and I'm sure other people will have too. Not to mention the fact that it will actually be Christmas Day for some people, such as my very own co-GM. I will be putting the game on a brief hiatus over the festive period, to resume on Tuesday 27th at 9PM GMT. Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

The Turn is over, no more votes please, not that it looks like there's any concern of that happening...

Day 8: Ceiling Falls, Everybody Dies Eques peered around the double door frame into the dark room. He turned back to his companions and nodded, pointing at Aon and motioning her in, as she had the torch. She nodded in turn, and went first with her torch. The symbol on the glass blazed into life, shining a faint beam of light into the room. How the device worked, none of them had any idea, but they were glad for it right now. “How does it look?” Bugsy asked, fidgeting a little nervously outside, looking down the corridor they had come from and the one that crossed it before the door. “Come on, come on, I feel really exposed and vulnerable out here.” “It looks safe?” Aon said, hesitantly. “Large, but safe?” “Why did you say it like that?” Bugsy asked, wheeling around to her. “Are you sure or aren't you? How can you not be sure?!” “We can't let our guards down in this place,” Aon replied. “Even if it looks safe, we can't be certain. Caution will keep us alive in here. Don't trust anything in the room.” “Even us,” Eques muttered dryly before slowly advancing in and looking around. He edged over to the side of the room, running a hand along the walls to look for cracks indicative of a secret passage. They'd already found a few, after all, no reason there couldn't be some in this room too. Bugsy followed the others into the room, eyeing Eques' back suspiciously after that comment, but also giving Aon a few glances as well. He felt the threat was very much contained within the people, rather than the House. “Aha!” Eques said, making Bugsy jump. “What? What have you found?” Bugsy asked, peering over Eques' shoulder so he could see. Aon walked over too, standing a little to the side and behind them to shine the torch over to illuminate Eques' findings. “Cheers,” Eques said, prizing a wooden slat from the wall. “This was crooked, so it stood out a little. Put my fingers around it and I could feel something underneath. So...” He heaved a little more, and there was a slight splintering noise as the panel came off. He dropped it on the floor, no longer caring about it in light of what was hidden underneath it. “It looks like some kind of mechanism,” Aon said, squinting a little to make out the detail. “A button of some kind? Press it!” She leaned forwards. “Wait!” Bugsy took her arm to stop her. “We don't know what it is.” “Secret passage,” Eques said with a grin, as Bugsy let go of the offending limb. “There must be hundreds of them here. Some are for the servants to come and go without being seen, but there are others that I don't think were for them. Colours if I know what for.” “This House is rather shady,” Bugsy said, frowning. “Maybe there are things here that the masters of the House didn't even want the serving staff to know?” “Could be,” Eques nodded. “It'd have to be something pretty valuable or illegal for them to hide it from their servants though, no way they'd be concerned about anything small around them.” “Or it could be something dangerous,” Bugsy pointed out. “Yes,” Eques acknowledged. “But don't we want to find something dangerous? There's something in this place. You heard it first, right? We can all hear it now. Thumping away, like we're in some kind of heart. We need something to stab it. Kill the Heart... Maybe we can leave.” “It's a bloody House!” Bugsy said, exasperation getting the best of him. “Brick and wood and mortar! You can't... You can't kill something like that.” “Wood can be Awakened though,” Eques pointed out. “And there are stories of even non-organic materials being Awakened. This place is, for want of a better word, alive. Might not make sense, but does anything about this place?” “...I guess so,” Bugsy eventually nodded. “Well, let's see what it is then.” “Stand back,” Eques instructed. “The wall might swing out quickly and hit us if we're too close.” They obeyed his command, and Eques pressed the button. He stood back and looked at the others, frowning at Aon, who was looking up at the ceiling. “What?” he asked. “Is the ceiling getting closer?” she asked, a puzzled look on her face. “Or is it just me?” “Colours!” Bugsy shouted as he too looked up and realised what was happening. The tall ceiling was indeed getting closer, rather quickly. It sparkled a little in the light of Aon's torch, as covering it were row upon row of metallic spikes. “Run!” he said, pushing Aon along to get her to stop standing there. They ran towards the door they had came through, but it would be a close call. Then the door started to creak closed, both parts scraping along the stone floor. There was just enough room for the three of them abreast. Then two of them. Then one. Aon threw herself through the closing door. There was a loud slamming sound as the door closed, followed by a quieter crash and swearing as a body hid the heavy wooden door. Then the swearing picked up again, joined by another voice. Then there was a hideous crunch, followed by silence. Aon picked herself off the floor. There was blood in her mouth, she realised. Maybe she'd bitten her tongue or something when she hit the ground. It was strange how it tasted, probably not something she wanted to get used to. She stood there for a moment, looking at the rubble that had consumed the room. She felt an odd detachment at the sight, as though she was actually under there with the other two, and this here was her Breath watching her body. Maybe she should say something, a small prayer to the Iridescent Tomes. Maybe she'd Return, but she didn't know what she'd call herself. That would be a problem. Hopefully the priests would have a nice name picked out for her so she wouldn't have to think of one. Maybe if she looked through the room, she'd find her mangled corpse. She wondered how it'd look. Hopefully it hadn't damaged her clothes, she'd only recently bought them, and at the very least someone else could use them after the blood was cleaned off them. Blood was a real pain to get out of them too. Not that she'd ever had to, not her blood anyway. Or anyone else's. That would make her a murderer or maybe the friend of a murderer and she didn't think that was true. She realised she was rambling a little to herself, but decided she would prefer that to being able to think right now. The mind was a really weird thing, wasn't it? “You know what your immediate future and a group of crows have in common?” A high-pitched voice shrieked into Aon's ear. She involuntarily winced at the sudden voice so close up, but remained sound enough of mind to turn around to see what it was. But it was too late to react; the blade had already pierced through her. A hand pushed her off the dagger and down to the floor. Something stood over her, something clearly inhuman, but already her vision was darkening too much for her to make out what it was. Maybe it was never there at all. “A murder.” The creature's piercing cackling consumed her senses as slowly the world faded to black. Bugsy (Bugsy6912) was an Explorer! Aon Deag (Aonar Faileas) was an Explorer with an Aon Ashe-Inscribed Torch, a Vial of Brass, and an Aon Ate Mark! Eques Tempore (Straw) was a Coinshot! I would like to remind people that these writeups contain no useful information, aside from potentially an Omen being hidden within them if discovered. I have mixed up a few details to prevent people being able to derive the kills from what was written. This writeup should not be taken literally, in that these three were all exploring, or that they didn't turn on each other in a vicious bloodbath, etc. It's a nice little story containing exactly one bit of useful information - These three people died. No more can be read from it. Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

The night is over, no PMs please!