Wyrmhero

The Turn is over, and you guys are the bane of my bloody existence...

We've been getting a lot of people saying that the game is becoming practically unplayable with the Ookla thing. Now, I don't want to rain on anyone's parade or force you guys to stop participating in a forum event. However, I do agree, as a GM it's just a pain as well as it massively increases the time it takes for me to do anything, as I have to double-check everything to make sure everything is correct. For a lot of people, it's okay provided you recognise avatars. Ecthelion III is pretty obvious, for example, though he did not include his name in that and therefore I'm not counting his vote at this time. However, (I'm not picking on you, it's just a good example of a post), we do also see other things which make things awkward. He quotes Ookla the Unpredictable. If he did not further on vote for Elenion, then it would be very difficult to tell who he was referring to, and when reading it makes it awkward as we then have to re-read what was said now we have context. As such, I'm instituting two new rules to make Ookla season easier, in lieu of shutting the game until it's over. Please go and change your title to be your previous name. If you're not willing to do this because you're attached to it, put it first thing in your signature. Whenever you mention or quote an Ookla, state both their actual name and their Ookla name, as Araris did above. This should make things easier for everyone until it all passes.

Day 3: Two for Joy Locke raised his hand as high as it would go, feeling around for purchase. He gave it an experimental pull, and the rock came away in his hand. He sighed and tossed the rock away behind him, heedless of whether it would hit anyone. He replaced his hand and gave another tug. This time it felt stable, so he put his weight on the hand, using it as purchase to raise his foot up to the next rung. Slowly he crested the wall of the courtyard, helping himself with further footholds and the plant life that crept down it. He found himself on the roof of this part of the building, though looking around it still didn't seem like he was on the roof of the building proper. No, instead what he had found himself in appeared to be some kind of rooftop garden. But it was not what he expected. The garden flourished, with a variety of plants and flowers that he could pretty easily name on sight. But it was not a colourful garden; It was grey, as though someone had sucked all the colour out of it. Perhaps it had been used for some kind of Awakening in the past, from which it had never recovered. He didn't know. A glint caught his eye. Something shiny, almost a blinding white. It was nestled in the branches of a tree above him, hiding in the ashen leaves. No, looking at it closer, it appeared to be in a bird's nest, carried there by some thieving magpie. He climbed the trunk slowly, mindful of the fact that if he slipped and fell badly, he might fall off the garden entirely and hurt himself. He reached out for the silvery object. His fingers reached out to grab it. “What do you bloody think you're doing?!” A shrill voice asked. There was a sharp stabbing pain in his fingers, and he let go with a cry. He hit the ground, thankfully not too far from where he was or in an awkward position, staring back up at the tree. The silver jewellery box that it seemed he had found started to slip and fell from the tree. It bounced oddly and flew off into the darkness below. A bird squawked in a way that almost seemed to resemble laughter, and took flight. Locke simply sighed. When morning arrived, and they met up in the study once more, two people failed to turn up. After some intensive searching, they found Greg's body propped up against the mantelpiece in a living room. There was a single wound on his body, a stab through the ribs which had pierced his heart and dyed his shirt a vivid red. But although they searched well into the day, they could not find Stick's body. It was as though the man had vanished entirely overnight. Stick (I_Am_A_Stick) was an Explorer with a Mixed Metal Vial! Greg Renold (STINK) was an Explorer! Two Omens have been discovered! The Day has begun, so no more PMs please. Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

The Night is over, please stop all PMs now.

Night 2: Dissension Kasther's pocketwatch continued to turn. It made no noise, for the only moving parts were the Awakened string pieces used to make it. There was no comforting clockwork tick or set of musical chimes to play on the hour. It hung in the study from the desk, a stark reminder of what had already happened. It spun on without a care for the world or its previous owner, their only way to see what the time was now that the sun was fading away. No clocks in the House worked. They all stood frozen at different times, where they had finally wound down after their last owner had passed away or left, and no-one had been left to care for them. The House was eerily silent when it wasn't being loud. No people or animals or clocks to fill the awkward and long silences. If they weren't even there, who was to say whether the House would even notice the passage of time? It continued on, unheeding of the changing world around it. And in the study of the House, thirty-odd people whose own lives were frozen while the mystery of the House remained. By the time that the dark, orange-painted dusk had descended on the House and its inhabitants, the Explorers had almost come to blows. Accusations were flying all over the place, some thought-out, others just reactionary as someone else said something they disagreed with. None of them said it, but the pachyderm in the study was that someone had to have killed Huxton. People didn't just up and die out of nowhere. Sure, they might die accidentally like Doctor Oglethorpe (and it was definitely and undeniably accidental. Or at least, they all shared the blame in a way, and none of them wanted to admit it), but not like Huxton had. None of them were able to brush that off as accidental. But the crux of matters was that they did not know each other well and had not been in each others' company for long enough to get a feeling for each other. They did not know who to trust or, more importantly in some ways, who not to trust. Some seemed shifty and shady and had done since they arrived at the House, but that didn't mean that they would go as far as to commit murder. And then there was the issue of this place, which straddled the line of possibility in such a way that even those familiar with Awakening were forced to admit it seemed alien. They had all agreed to fashion a noose. Someone had found some strong rope, and they'd use a chair as the stand for it. It was crude, and potentially not a clean death, but it was all they could provide in this place, or at least, it was all they could provide with what people had admitted to finding. In a way, this was the catalyst for the current air of distrust and gloom. Before, regardless of what had happened yesterday, it didn't seem quite real. Like a dream that had simply continued on too long without waking. Now, with the stark and mundane reminder of death before them, it had snapped them back to attention, but the fear was preying on their minds. A simple comment would be spun into an attack on another person's character. A muttered utterance became contorted as other people strained to hear it and misheard what was said. The conditions were rife for a disaster in the making if the right spark was provided. The tension was thick in the air, everyone keeping to themselves and showing a gruff exterior to anyone who attempted to coax their opinion. Something was said, a comment that in retrospect was fairly reasonable was taken the wrong way. The Explorers, fearing that the problem of this House and the potential murderer(s) would never be solved if they acted passively, forced the speaker, Doctor Artie Neuems, onto the chair. It was kicked away from him, and the old man fell, his neck snapping. They all stood for a moment, watching the corpse hanging from the sturdy chandelier in the study, before one of them had the sense to check his person for any evidence of wrongdoing. None was found. Night 2 has begun! It will end at 9 PM GMT on Monday 28th November. PMs may be continued until the end of the Turn. Dr Artie Neuems (Arraenae) was an Explorer! Dr Artie Neuems/Arraenae (5): Quintus (Jondesu), Isaac Jones (Elenion), Arinian (as himself), Greg Ronald (STINK), The Guy in the Red Uniform (Ecthelion III) Rotiart/Paranoid King (3): Dr Konwa Arelle (Wonko the Formerly Sane), Dr Artie Neuems (Arranae), Eques Tempore (Straw) Yiferien/Daniyah (1): Ararlis (Araris Valerian) Isaac Jones/Elenion (1): Khaos (little wilson) Eques Tempore/Straw (1): Rotiart (Paranoid King) Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

At least he apologises, guys >>. Also, it's nine o' clock, you know what that means! Yes, the Cycle has ended. Stay tuned, but also not very tuned, since I haven't written anything yet in anticipation of you lot being utter bastards >>.

I'm not counting this vote unless I am informed of who posted it. You were warned. For clarity, the edit has now been made so it is accepted, but this is a good example of what will happen.

It is possible, depending on the dice, that more than two Omens can be found - It's just very unlikely.

Day 2: Spooky Scary Skeletons There was a scream. It was not a scream of terror in face of some nefarious entity or psychological horror, but a simple cry for help as someone did something they did not intend to do. This was followed by a loud crashing noise, followed by several more similar sounds. Then – much to the relief of those nearby – it was followed by Moro cursing every and all gods he knew of in the Court, interspersed by wincing and groaning. “Are you alright?” Billy shouted down the stairs. “Are you still alive?” “He sounds it, doesn't he?” Greg pointed out. “Besides, what were you going to do if he had said no?” “Let's give him a hand,” Billy said, ignoring Greg's comment. He carefully made his way down the stone steps, a hand on the railing to keep himself steady on the slippery rocks. He was grateful that the little light from the hallway showed that they were not slick with blood, just highly polished. He stepped down onto the floor and checked Moro over briefly, making sure there was no lasting harm as best he could tell. When he was certain that the man was merely bruised rather than sporting broken bones, he helped Moro up, supporting his weight until he was properly ready to stand. Thankfully, it seemed there was no lasting damage. “Blasted pencils, tried to kill me!” Moro said, shrugging off the aid that Billy had lent him. On second thoughts, perhaps the damage was worse than Billy had initially thought. “No need to thank me or anything,” Billy muttered, looking around. “Is this the cellar? Wondered where they kept their wine here.” “Must be,” Greg said, finally having made his way carefully down the steep steps to join them. “Don't remember seeing that door there before though. Or maybe this place is just getting to me.” “Must be getting to me too,” Billy nodded in agreement, “'Cause I swear that wasn't there either.” He frowned. “Doesn't look much like a cellar to me though. Looks more like a proper basement than anything. No idea what they'd put down here though; you'd think they'd have enough room upstairs. And why would it be hidden, and why's it now open?” “Maybe someone opened the door somehow,” Greg suggested. “A secret switch, or something.” “Well,” Moro said, dusting himself down a little. “If it's hidden, that means it's valuable. And if it's valuable, that means I want it.” “Maybe if we had some actual light,” Billy said, looking around. “There's torches down here,” he said as he unholstered one from the wall. “Anyone got a way to light one?” Two shakes of the head. “Okay, back in a second,” he said, carefully making his way upstairs to light it from a torch upstairs. “Why are there even lit torches here?” Moro asked. “Or is that a question I don't want answered?” The torch was brought downstairs, and illuminated a small room. Before them, now they could properly see them, iron bars raised up towards the room. A set of keys hung on a little stand on the wall on the opposite side. Within the bars, the torch illuminated ivory that had yellowed with the passage of time. A human skeleton, chained up to the wall. Clearly it had been tortured, carvings performed on it which hard worn through the skin and marked the bone. Even as they looked at it, there was a snap, and the worn wrists finally gave way, the bones falling to the floor in a heap. “You know what?” Moro said, throwing his hands up and turning around to go back up the stairs. “I am no longer interested.” “Wait,” Greg hissed, grabbing Moro's shoulder to stop him going anywhere. “Billy, move your torch closer.” Billy gulped and did as he was told. He took a hesitant step forwards, casting the torch's light further into the room. The next body it illuminated was not just bones, but had flesh too. “Is that Huxton?” Billy asked, looking back at the others. The body was lying on the floor, a long wooden stick poking out of his mouth. There was something pink and fluffy on the end, as though he'd been run through by a cleaning implement. Blood pooled around him from his mouth. “Yeah...” Greg nodded. “We'd better tell the others. You stay here and guard the body.” “Guard it? From what?” Billy asked. He shook his head and followed after Greg and Moro. “Colours no! I'm not staying one minute down here on my own! What if I'm next?!” By the time they had found the others and dragged them all to the dungeon, both the skeleton and the body of Huxton were gone. Only the blood remained. Day 2 has begun! It will end at 9 PM GMT on Saturday 26th November. Please halt all PMs for the duration of the Day Turn. This means you. You know who you are. Huxton (The Young Bard) was an Explorer! An Omen was discovered! Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

That's the end of the Night Turn, please stand by for the Day...

Night 1: Paint It Black They moved as a group at first. They were all present and alive, and they were intent to remain the same way. But they fragmented over time. Shifty gazes and paranoid glances meant that this arrangement would never last, and in due course, it did not. The disappearance of Kasther did not implicate any of them, and in a way, that was the problem. Any of them could be responsible. That was the best-case scenario. Food was not impossible to find. The kitchen did indeed seem stocked with food. Strangely, all of it was fresh, but there was no mess that would hint towards fresh preparation. No crumbs littered the floor, or discarded fruit that had fallen by the wayside and been missed. The only possible rational explanation was that the food had been prepared expertly and it had been cleaned up expertly as well. And yet the food itself, while not tasteless or horrible, was merely of decent quality, rather than suggesting a master chef had prepared it. They checked upstairs, above the study, as best they could tell. There was no body there, no hint of blood. Again, it suggested an expert clean-up operation had taken place. “There is only one conclusion,” the nameless man in red said. “The murderer must be one of us. They must have killed Kasther and hidden his body somewhere.” “But who could have done it?” Quintus asked, shaking his head. “Weren't we all there?” “One of us must have been missing,” Frost said. “There are so many of us, is it a strange idea that one of us might have nipped out quickly for a spot of light murder?” “You say it like they popped down to the market because they forgot something...” Exion muttered. “So what about now?” “Someone is missing,” Locke pointed out. “One of the doctors. Ogle-whatsit.” “It must be him then,” Isaac nodded, smashing a fist into his open palm like his namesake. “Must be Oglethorpe.” “I must be what?” It was to his greatest misfortune that Doctor Ryan Oglethorpe had appeared in the doorway at that moment, a tad confused. “Get him!” Dr Neuems shouted. Ryan ran. He did not know why he was running other than that there was a mob after him. They chased him because he ran, and he ran because they chased him. Thirty people stomped down the corridors, a wave of vigilante justice caught up in itself. He looked back to see how close they were, but kept putting one foot in front of the other to keep going. One foot in front of the other, until suddenly he couldn't. His foot fell down as he hit the staircase, and he tripped over the step he didn't expect. His body swung forwards, his other foot failing to find traction and falling as well. His head smacked the hard, ancient wooden staircase, and he kept falling. He landed a crumpled heap at the bottom of the staircase. “Stand back!” Doctor Arelle shouted, holding her arms out to prevent people getting closer. “Let me examine him!” “You're not a medical doctor!” Doctor Neuems retaliated. “If anyone should examine him, it should be me.” “Forgive me if I don't want someone braying for his blood to examine him,” Konwa muttered dryly as she turned Ryan over. She winced at the angle of the neck. She put a finger to the man's pulse just to be sure. She shook her head. “Dead. I'm not a medical professional, as you say, but seems clear to me he snapped his neck on the fall.” “You'd be right about that,” Doctor Neuems muttered, patting at his forehead with a handkerchief. “Can't youth today handle falling downstairs? Back in my day we'd have to fall downstairs twice a day as we left the house and came back...” “Colours!” Eques grabbed Konwa and pulled her arm off the corpse's body. “Look!” Slowly as they were talking, the colour started to drain from Doctor Arelle's face, as she watched it literally drain from Doctor Oglethorpe's corpse. No, it was not just that. Even as his skin turned greyer and more colourless, more dead, it continued to encroach. His shirt went from a somewhat dirty white to grey. His trousers paled. The change covered his entire person, man, clothes and effects. And then it stopped. “I think we can be pretty sure that there's something odd happening here now,” Konwa muttered, checking her fingertips to ensure they too wouldn't start paling and losing all colour. “I've never seen Breath disappear from a body like that. Never. It's like this place... Absorbed it. I don't like it. We need to get to the bottom of this place, I think.” “But what about finding out who killed Kasther? What about finding out which of us is a blasted murderer?” Yiferien asked. “A human killer doesn't scare me half as much as a House that has somehow become Awakened. Become alive. Human rage and maliciousness and anger, all these can be understood. But who knows what a damned structure wants?” Konwa shook her head. “We'll meet in the study later. We have some more exploring to do. This is one mystery I refuse to let get the better of me. And who better to solve it than a BioChromatic Scholar such as myself?” She gave them a wry smile in spite of everything. "I will see you later. Let's hope we find something, eh?" Night 1 has begun! It will end on Thursday at 9PM GMT. PMs may now be resumed until the end of the Turn. Doctor Ryan Oglethorpe/phattemer was an Explorer! Doctor Ryan Oglethorpe/phattemer (2): Isaac Jones (Elenion), Dr Artie Neuems (Arraemae) Exion/Unodus (1): The Guy in the Red Uniform (Ecthelion III) Moro/Magestar (1): Frost (Doctor12) Isaac Jones/Elerion (1): Khaos (little wilson) The Guy in the Red Uniform/Ecthelion III (1): Exion (Unodus) Sean/polkinghornbd (1): Huxton (The Young Bard) Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

The Turn is over! Please do not reply here anymore. New thread coming up soon. Edit: Your turn to ninja me, Kas...

Tie vote means no lynch.

An Omen turns a random player into an Eliminator. This random player can be its discoverer. It is possible to go exploring and find dud/gag 'items' (which are not actually items in the game) or nothing.

Afraid you'll have to PAFO that.

Omens create Eliminators, so they grant Roles, yes.

Ah dammit. I caught Aonar's character, but not yours >>.

To confirm, the people who 'discover' the Omens in the write-up are not necessarily the people who actually discover them. This is because players may not want to give away that they were the ones to discover it, or confirm what they are, and my write-ups are designed to contain no useful information (except for this case, where it references two Omens).

I realise I put 'Night 1' on peoples PMs when responding to their Actions. Should be Night 0, they'll be fixed later.

Two Omens, two Eliminators.

Day 1: Found? The House creaked with age as Dr Arelle ascended the staircase, hand on the railing to support herself. The stairs were steep and an awkward climb, but the noise that each step made was reassuring in its own way. This place was large and silent, and that made it rather creepy. Even the relatively disturbing squeaking noise he made as she went up the stairs was more comforting than that. She crested the last step and trod onto the first floor landing. It seemed similar in many ways to the floor below, with extravagant artworks and even a surprisingly well-kept rug on the floor. The only real difference was that it was slightly smaller, due to the existence of the stairs going up to the second floor, and down to the ground. The floorboards here did not bend so much under his weight, so it became eerily quiet once again. But no, that wasn't quite right. At first, Konwa had assumed that rhythmic sound to be that of her own heartbeat, but it was pretty clear upon listening that that was a separate noise. Certainly her heart was going much faster than this. The more she listened, the more she began to recognise it. It was a constant ticking noise, regular and familiar to her. But there were no working timepieces in the House, of that she was fairly certain. So that just left one option. “Must've come upstairs from another staircase,” Konwa muttered to herself as she made his way towards the noise. “Has he been hiding up here?” The noise grew louder as she walked, until finally it was in the same room as her. It was a plush, comfortable room, with a large armchair that looked incredibly inviting. But she didn't sit down yet, as the ticking would drive her mad if she ceased in his search. Looking around the room did not provide any insight. The watch was not visible lying on the floor, so instead she started to disassemble the room. The pillows were removed from the chair, followed by the seat in case it had fallen down the back. All she had to show for that were a few strange coins that must have been centuries old; she definitely didn't recognise them as Hallandren, at least. Then she crouched down, and, despite fear of what she might find, shoved an arm underneath it. She pulled his arm back out, grasping something cool and metallic and circular. The weight and sound of a chain followed it, confirming that it was what she thought. She pulled out Kasther's watch, flicking the lid open to check it. “Huh, straw inside? Must have a lot of money, to waste Breath on a watch...” But then, if it was Awakened, why was it ticking? She realised briefly after thinking that thought that she could no longer hear it. She stood up. “Hey.” Konwa nearly jumped out of her skin. She put a hand on the chair's arm to steady herself. “Colours! Give me a warning before you give me a heart attack.” “Sorry,” Nathan said, having at least the dignity to look a bit sheepish. “We're getting everyone to the study. Want to go over what we've found.” “Sure, just... Let me settle a bit first.” She said, sinking into the chair behind her. “So, who would like to go first? Well, before that, has anyone found any other ways out?” Jeffrey asked. There was no response other than a shaking of heads. “Well, who wants to go first then?” “I will,” Stick said, raising his hand. “Me and Bugsy tried to smash a window. You know, just picked up a chair and threw it at the glass. Damned thing bounced off it and fell apart. I want to know who they got to install that glass, because a chair should win that fight.” “I found a door I thought let to the gardens,” Arinian said. “Turns out though that they actually have an indoor garden. An indoor garden, because apparently nothing's too good here. At least we can get a bit of sunlight though, if the rain ever clears up.” “We're not likely to starve,” Aon Deag added. She held a bread roll in his hands, which she had already made her way through half of. “Isn't that incredibly stale by now? ...Shouldn't it actually be dust or something? Or mouldy or whatever?” Moro asked, edging a little closer to have a look. He blinked and tried to focus on something that was barely visible to his eyes. “...Is that steam?” “Freshly baked,” Aon nodded. “There's a pile of them on the table in the kitchen we went past on the tour. Water seems fine too, by my reckoning. I guess Kasther decided he wanted to become a baker instead of a tour guide.” “Sure, why not?” Eques said, a nervous laugh escaping. “So he just up and left the tour and went to the kitchen to bake as an apology? I can believe that by this point...” “Well, if he did,” Konwa said as she held the pocketwatch up. “He went upstairs first. Had a fight with something too, if these scratches are new.” “So, to summarise,” Jeffrey said, “we have a missing tour guide that we can presume is dead, his watch found with evidence of a fight, fresh food of all things, and we apparently cannot get out. Does anyone want to add to this?” “Yeah,” Billy said, interjecting, though his focus was not on the rest of the group. “Those wax things that important folk use to sign letters. There were three or four of them on the desk when we started talking. They've been half-inched.” “...Anyone got something important to add to this?” Jeffrey asked, trying hard to hide his annoyance. There was no need to concern themselves with a petty thief in their midst, after all. “If not, then I suggest we keep searching.” “Wait. We're all here, right?” Locke asked, his face going quite pale as he stared at a point on the ceiling above them. “No-one's missing, right?” “Other than Kasther, we're all here,” Jeffrey said, looking around. “Why?” “Look!” Locke pointed at the wall. A viscous red liquid slowly poured from the ceiling of the room. “Oh, now the house is bleeding. Great, just great,” Jeffrey muttered, putting a hand to his head and sighing. “Or I suppose we're just found where Kasther is.” “...I don't think that's Kasther to blame,” Juq said, putting a hand on Jeffrey's shoulder, removing his hand from his face and steering his gaze over to it. “Normal blood doesn't write stuff on its own.” The blood was starting to congeal and separate into legible writing. More droplets from above came down to join it, creating a macabre message to them all. “'Enemies of the heirs, beware'?” Kersla asked, frowning. “What does that mean?” “I have no idea,” Sean said, backing away from the wall. “But I've a horrible feeling that we're going to find out...” Two Omens have been discovered! Day 1 has begun! It will end on Tuesday at 9PM GMT. PMs must now be shut down until the end of the Turn. Character List Kasther's Pocketwatch

Well maybe you should get to sleep. You know, like you said you were going to do two hours ago >>. The Night Turn is over! Please remember that you may not send PMs during the Day. New thread going up as soon as I am allowed to post it.

I know I can't wait to find out what the GM has in store for us

Yeah, I used to have the link saved on my laptop, but since my laptop went the way of the dodo, I've not had it saved. Thanks Nyali.

You are correct. I'll try and find that useful countdown clock at some point, unless someone wants to link me to it?