Gamma Fiend

Day 5: Three Ghosts With yet another innocent victim lynched, the villagers of Drell's Crossing settled in for another bleak, bloody night as they huddled deep inside the ruins of their old homes and waited for the shadow to come and claim them. For midnight was the domain of the Dark One, and as he grew stronger with each passing day, so did the Pattern weaken. *** Between evening shadows and day’s pre-dawn light they work their own will throughout all of the night casting, conjuring, whispering rhymes with knowledge both new and from ancient of times. The man who channels stands alone. He gives his friends for sacrifice. On rising smoke of the incense they burn their whispered words carry desires to churn to bring about change with nature’s own power in earth, moon, sun, starlight, leaf, field, and flower. Two roads before him, one to death beyond dying, one to life eternal. By flickering candlelight magic is wrought with spells, stones, anthame, chalice, and knot the wand and the cauldron used wisely discrete where pentagram, triquetra and censor meet. Which will he choose? Which will he choose? What hand shelters? What hand slays? They know, they will, they keep silent, they dare they call upon earth, water, fire, and air. With determined of hearts, yet malice toward none the energy’s sent for the work to be done. Blood feeds blood. Blood calls blood. Blood is, and blood was, and blood shall ever be. Ralv stepped back from his finished message, looking up at last standing wall of The Waffle House where he had painstakingly spent the entire evening engraving and painting to make sure it would be seen by all in the morning. As he turned back around and went to will himself back to that strange, miraculous place, he wondered if the villagers of the town had really understood the wonderful nature of his delightful little poems he had been leaving for them. As a traveling wanderer, he had no particular attachment to this small, isolated village that was under attack from the forces of the shadow, and he certainly had no interest in actively helping them out, for he knew as soon as he was in harm's way he could immediately leave the town behind as fast as he willed it. But for some reason he couldn't bring himself to leave. Not yet, at least. He had always been a prankster, at heart, and in his travels he took much glee in bringing riddles and mystery to people wherever he went. That's why he was amazed that people spent so much time trying to break his nonsense codes when there were real and immediate dangers that threatened to destroy them all. Maybe they just enjoy the distractions, he thought to himself with a smirk as he went to go step through the doorway to Tel'aran'rhiod, the World of Dreams, but was suddenly knocked off of his feet as the ground suddenly began to tremble and shake. The silence of the night was pierced by a loud rumbling as wooden buildings creaked and groaned in their foundations, and the shattering and clanging sounds as glass and metal and everything else not fastened down began to rattle around and fall to the floor with loud crashes. Ralv was unsteadily trying to get back standing upright when was startled by a loud bang behind him, and as he looked to see what it was he fell back down to the ground, eyes growing wide with terror. Striding out of the Cellar of the inn were Three Ghosts, chatting amiably amongst themselves and utterly unperturbed by the chaos of the quaking of the ground or building. The spirit of Malai suddenly paused and wrinkled his nose. “Something stinks,” he said, looking straight at Ralv with a quizzical look, but staring off behind him instead, as if he couldn't see him standing there. Ralv stared back in terror, realizing that he wasn't in the Unseen World, where the sight of spirits was frequent, but that the ghosts of the villagers were actually walking around in the waking world! The ground suddenly stopped trembling and Ralv got back to his feet and ran towards the doorway of the inn, taking one last look back at the ghosts standing outside of the doorway of the Cellar, and was caught off guard as he felt rough hands suddenly grab him from the back of the his neck and rammed a cold dagger right into his throat. “For the shadow,” was all he heard as he choked and coughed on his own blood and slowly faded into unconsciousness. *** Gade, the deceased Whitecloak, marched through the village at midnight underneath the quiet, peaceful moon. He was exhausted after a day of organizing everything down in his Cellar back at the Spruce Thicket, but he had another job to do still. Fulfilling his duty to the Children of the Light and rooting out darkfriends and servants of the shadow. He had officially retired from the organization many years ago, but there were some habits that were hard to let die. The village of Drell's Crossing was a quiet, isolated place, but sometimes the shadow preferred the lonely, remote places to get the strongest hold over, working in the shadows and out of sight and avoiding notice. That was why Gade needed to remain vigilant and steadfast in his endeavours. And that was why he decided he was going to interrogate Lam on this evening for any information regarding the shadow. He stepped into the street sweepers home, mentally commenting on the dirty, unkempt floor with garbage and broken clutter strewn about it, but not noticing the rest of the wrecked household as it lay ruined about him, or the direct cast of moonlight from above as their was no longer any roof. No, Gade was on a mission for the Light, and would not be distracted by such things. Without any doors, the whitecloak was able to stroll right into Lam's bedroom and announced to the body lying motionless on the bed that he was under arrest for interrogation and to come peacefully. After a moment of silence, an irritated Gade strode forward to shake the sleeping street sweeper awake when his hand passed right through the solid the Lam's solid leg. With a gasp he drew his hand back, and in the moon light he could see a puddle of blood that had pooled in the bed from the open gash on the street sweeper's throat. Gade heard a noise behind him and turned with a start to see an indistinguishable figure hiding in the shadows holding a mirror, and in the reflection he could see the room around him as it really was, ruined and in shambles, the results of the horrible storm from the night before, with the corpse of Lam laying on the bed. What he couldn't see was himself standing in the wreckage of Lam's house, for he realized with a sudden crash that he himself was dead, lynched many days ago. The shadow let out a haunting laugh and cried with triumph, “When the dead walk the earth, the days of Tarmod Gai'don approach! The Final Battle draws near, and the Shadow shall consume the entire world! “ Gade let out a cry of frustration, praying to the Light to, wishing he could help the villagers in their time of need, but he slowly began to fade away as he returned to that unseen world, Tel'aran'rhiod, where he could only watch in horror as evil slowly destroyed his home of Drell's Crossing. *** The spectre of Kaim stalked through the streets of Drell's Crossing with a wide grin on his face, unaffected by the occasional rumbling of the ground beneath him and fully aware of his supernatural presence in the world of the living. He had to admit he had been surprised by the fireball that had claimed his life, but he let out a wild, maniacal laugh full of glee as he rounded a corner and saw a freshly painted Dragon's Fang scrawled on one of the remaining walls of The Waffle House. He may have been dead, but his mission was still accomplished. The Taint he had carried forth from Shadar Logath had already infected this town, and buried itself deep down to it's roots, where it was carried by all of the villagers as they stared at each other with narrowed, suspicious eyes. No, this village would never recover from the plague of evil that had visited them in these dark days. He knew the fogs of Mashadar were still hiding hiding somewhere in this village, lying dormant and in wait, eager to be picked up once more and free to wreak it's havoc on the world. As the sun began to rise once more in the horizon, bringing with it more revelations of death and deceit, Kaim departed the village of Drell's Crossing with a smile on his face as he stepped back into the World of Dreams, where he would continue to watch as the dark evil of Shadar Logath consumed each and every soul in it's wake. He was able to linger long enough to hear the first shouts at dawn as the fresh bodies of the evening were being discovered. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ralv and Lam died! Ralv was a Villager Dreamwalker, and Lam was a Regular Villager! (An Inactive Regular Villager, at that) A Dragon Fang was scrawled on Khamsi's Door! This Cycle will last 48 hours and end at 12PM Friday, July 4th! There are no more PM's allowed!!! Updated Player ListTM

And like Jain pointed out above... one of Ernest Hemmingway's most famous quotes...

*Sighs* Cycle 4 has ended! PMs are CLOSED. Write-up coming shortly. Oh, and enjoy the Kingkiller Chronicles, Ashiok! Rothfuss' writing is beautiful, and you are in for a fantastic journey!

By the way, just because I said everything was silent in the village in the write-up, that doesn't mean the thread actually has to be quiet. Where's all that awesome RP this game had going strong earlier!

I feel like this is where I may actually be able to be of help! For I suffer from the same exact problem. And honestly, I really think this is the problem that a majority of people who try writing face at first. As horrible as it sounds, I have really found only one possible solution.... and that's just to write. It will be bad at first. You will not like what you put on the page. But don't delete it. Keep going, keep adding to it. Keep thinking about, and be aware of what you don't like about it! So you know what to avoid/watch out for as you keep writing! And I actually have personally yet to actually follow completely through with this advice, but I really think this is the only real solution. Just keep writing until you actually feel comfortable with it. Hope that helps! And Good Luck!

There are 24 hours left in this cycle! It will be ending tomorrow, July* 2nd, at 11AM EST.

Night 4: A Silence of Three Parts (Yes, Rothfuss much?) The village of Drell's Crossing lay in silence, and it was a silence of three parts. The most obvious part was the silence that lay over the town in the wake of the devastation from the night before. The villagers had crawled out of the Cellar underneath the ruins of The Waffle House, and had spent the first part of the morning in solemn contemplation. They had never seen nor heard of anything nearly as ferocious as the storm the previous evening, and more than a few of them whispered it had to have been the unnatural result of the Dark One's own, unknown interest in the village. Many of the villagers had even given up on praying to the Light for help, knowing full well they were on their own in this endeavor. Inside the ruined inn, the remaining villagers huddled around a slanted table, one of it's legs broken off during the previous night, stuffed far away in the corner over by the bar, and drank in determined silence. If there had been a larger crowd, even a handful more of men, the silence may have been filled by conversation or laughter, or the clatter and din of noise expected from a drinking house. If there had been joy in the air and happy things to sing about, there would have been music..... but no, of course there was no music. There was none of these things and so the small, sullen silence remained, acting like a counterpart to the larger, hollow one that lay over the village. The third silence was not an easy thing to notice. It was the sound of a noose being slowly drawn, the rough, frayed edges of the rope being tied into a knot, and the small quiet as all of the villagers who had gathered to watch the lynching as they collectively held their breath to wait for the results of their decision. The silence belonged Grimlar al'Pil, as he stood on the ledge of the platform and looked out over the ruined town, as the villagers were too ashamed to look him in the eyes before he was hanged. His silence was greater than both of the other silences combined, for his was the sad, heavy silence of a man who was waiting to die. It had taken many hours for the villagers to rouse themselves out of their sorrow-filed catatonia from earlier in the morning, and as the noon sun hung high over the town, accusations had started to be thrown around like the debris in the air from the storm from the prior evening. As the afternoon stretched into twilight and eventually evening, it appeared as if the villagers couldn't make up their minds. Some began to question Khamsi's authority and proposed whether the Waes would be more fit to be Mayor, despite the cobbler's insistence that he was no good to lead them, citing his madness from the taint of Saidin. As the cobbler was being sworn in, he reached into his pocket and brought out coin while he looked around, staring everyone into the eye as he flipped the coin up and caught it in his outstretched hand. “Heads,” he declared breaking the silence over the town, as his gaze focused on Grimlar, the town drunk who was still standing on the platform awaiting his sentencing, as he shrugged and raised his voice to address the rest of the villagers, “This is what happens when you elect a madman mayor. Hang him” It wasn't with much enthusiasm that the villagers cut down Grimlar with as soon as he stopped flailing, and a quick search of his person found nothing on him, with the villagers unanimously declaring that he was just another innocent victim of the bloody game of Daes Dae'mar. And it was with this somber news that the sun began to set, casting the village of Drell's Crossing into another darker, deeper silence. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Grimlar al'Pil was a Regular Villager! Waes was voted Mayor! Lynch: Khamsi (3) - Grim, Newan, Douza Grim (6) - Erik, Witless, Leas Fel, Dellan, Rishi, Waes Trimat (3) - Trimat, Nath, Khamsi Waes (1) - Ralv Mayor Waes (3) - Leas Fel, Newan, Douza Khamsi (1) - Khamsi Player ListTM

10 minutes to go! And then the thread will be locked and the write-up commencing! (This one will probably take a while)

Just a little under 4 hours left until the Turn ends! From my quick, (just woken up) tally, the vote looks like it stands at Lynch: Khamsi (4) - Grim, Newan, Waes, Douza Grim (4) - Erik, Witless, Leas Fel, Dellan Trimat (3) - Trimat, Nath, Khamsi Waes (1) - Ralv Mayor Waes (3) - Leas Fel, Newan, Douza Khamsi (1) - Khamsi

Just a heads up that the Turn will be ending in just less than 12 hours from when this post is made!

Day 4: The Perfect Storm As the storm that had gathered over Drell's Crossing finally broke, all of the villagers immediately ran for their homes, locking themselves indoors and hiding away for the evening. As it got later into the night, the down-pouring of rain steadily increased until the streets of the village were rivers of mud and debris, with frequent strikes of lightning that would light up the entire night sky, causing deafening cracks of thunder that left the ground rumbling. *** Malai stumbled his way through the flooded streets, struggling against the fierce blowing winds that threatened to knock him over. As soon as he set foot outside his door earlier in the night, he had become immediately drenched, as the endless cold rain soaked him down to his bones and the raging wind pushed him along, plastering his wet clothes to his skin. I'm a bloody fool. He cursed at himself again, once again thinking back to the warm hearth back at the stable he could have been wrapped up around, enjoying a nice pipe of Two Rivers tabac. But I at least need to try. He had decided earlier that what he was doing so far wasn't good enough, and that he needed to try harder. Stopping in the middle of an intersection, he wondered once again what good his power was to the village in the current times to be able to smell crime after it happened. Realizing that waiting until another atrocity to happen wasn't the best course of action, he had come out into the storm hoping that he could use his thief-catching abilities to track down the murderers either during or before they committed their atrocities. Malai was so focused on trying to sniff the air – hoping, praying to The Creator – trying to catch any scent of evil before it struck, that he didn't notice the figure stealthily creeping up behind him, with the noise of their sloshing footsteps drowned out in the endless pattering of the constant rain on the rooftops. As a brief flare of light caught Malai's attention down an alleyway to his right, he spun just in time to see the gleam of the dagger as it pierced right into his heart. As he fell to the ground, his senses were overwhelmed by the most foul, terrible stench he had ever smelt, and his last thoughts were of cursing the irony of his own death being the last thing he would ever smell. *** Sprenil, the carpenter, sat safely inside of his shop, sweatily working away as he sawed at a board of wood, following along his carefully traced line. In times as dire as this, every scrap of wood was vital and could not be wasted, and even he could not help but feel some small guilt as he finished his cut and the the board fell to the ground with thud, kicking up a small pile of sawdust in a puff as it landed. He coughed and waved his hand to clear the air in front of his face as went to go pick the board up, wondering again if this was the best use of the villages sources. He paused for a second, then shook his head while he grabbed a handful of nails from his work table nearby. Until those flaming fools can get their acts together, I think I'm safer in here. Sprenil had spent the evening boarding up all of the windows in his house and reinforcing his doors with heavy, strudy sliding wooden crossbars. As the village's only carpenter, he knew he was important for the defense of the town, as he was the only one who could properly maintain the recently erected palisades. So who could blame him for making sure he was protected? He raised his arm to drive another nail into the board when he heard an audible snap and saw his solid-steel hammer head crack into two pieces and fall clean off the handle. He sat in stunned silence as he stared at the broken tool in his hand, and felt a cold shiver break out all over his body. He slowly got to his feet, visibly shaking, and after quickly searching around the room, he realized with horror that his spare hammer was outside in his supply shed. Summoning up his courage, he flung himself towards his door with a cry, and tore it open to be greeted with blasting winds and freezing rain pelting his skin instantly. Without thinking, he immediately broke to the right and ran out into the night, splashing up mud and water in his wild dash, trying to make it to his shed as quickly as possible. Dashing frantically, he rounded the corner without even looking, and was so stunned to see the large Dragons Fang scrawled onto his shed, he didn't even notice the fireball as it came up behind him and struck him in the back before he could even let out a shriek. As the smoke cleared, his lifeless, burnt corpse fell to the ground with a splash. *** Senna stalked through the nights, on the prowl and ready to strike. She had used to be a peaceful, simple person, who had once enjoyed the pleasant relaxation of weaving. What had once started as a hobby had eventually grown into a profession. Providing clothing and other fabrics for the villagers had once brought her joy, but then the Moon began to call to her, and she felt to the rush of blood as the urge to hunt grew and grew, out of control. At first she hadn't understood what was happening, and thought maybe she had been cursed by the Dark One. But during one full moon many years ago, when she thought she had finally lost herself and gave into the impulse to flee out into the night and seek prey, she had truly found herself. Or rather, her pack had found her. To her nocturnal brethren, she was known as a two-legged, but when she was with the wolves, feeling the thrill of the hunt at night, she felt less human and more beast. She knew that it was possibly dangerous, but when Darkfriends had invaded Drell's Crossing, she had become blinded by her rage. Despite being constantly associated with the shadow, wolves were the fiercest enemy of the dark, with her being told tales of whole packs of wolves sacrificing themselves just to take down a single Myyradal. Neverborn, they called them. So excited at the prospect of the hunt, she didn't even let herself be bothered by the raging storm that was building over the village, she ignored the ferocious winds as she was buffeted by debris that left slashes and cuts all over her arms and legs. She was on a mission, and she would not let herself be distracted. Thick, swirling storm clouds blocked out the moon above, but she still howled to it with glee, sending out a message to her pack, asking who they wanted to hunt tonight. Her mouth was starting to water as she could already taste the sweet blood, and with her golden eyes shining in the dark, she set out to find a target. So eager to find a victim, Senna began to recklessly stalk through the streets, abandoning all sense of caution as she began to run corner to corner, choices of who to hunt racing through her mind. Sudden images and thoughts filled her mind, as she came to a sudden halt, eyes growing wide with terror. Danger, two-legged! Hide! She didn't realize it was too late until she felt the cold bite of steel as it drove in between her ribs. She let out a vicious snarl and tried to swipe at her attacker, but her sudden motion made the blade twist inside of her, and it drove her to her knees with a wave of pain. Desperately, she sent one last plea to the gray wolf that had saved and found her those many years ago. They are safe. Smoke replied, sending images of her children, Lien and Robbie, being escorted out of the village by a group of wolves. We will raise your pups. See you in the World of Dreams, Mother Cub. Hundreds of wolves cried out into the night sky in mourning, their howls combining with the roaring of the storm, rising into a maddening crescendo. Knowing her children were out of the village and safe, Senna closed her eyes happy, looking forward to the hunt in the next life. *** The storm continued to wage on over top of Drell's Crossing, increasing in ferocity with each fatality in the night, and just before dawn broke, it had become a full tempest, as the clouds began to swirl faster and faster and started dipping in towards the ground. Gales shrieked through the air and hail fell from the sky, pelting all of the homes and villages as lightning danced freely in the sky. A column of air, blackened with the mud and flying debris, spinning around at high intense speeds began to rise towards the sky and combined with the dipping storm clouds from above, coalescing into the perfect storm, and free to rage through the village. The vortex of winds created unimaginable gusts of wind that began to rip boards and tiles off of the sides and roofs of houses, as tiny shreds of wood or other matter shot around at high speeds like shrapnel, with a deafening roar of noise that was only beat out by the thunderous cracking and groaning and entire wooden structures were rooted from the ground and tossed up into the air. All of the villagers fled from their houses in wide-eyed terror, as the very sky had come down like the hand of the Dark One and wrecked their city. Grouping together and watching the massive destruction, the remaining villagers ran to seek refuge at The Golden Waffle, remembering the Cellar that Gade, the former innkeeper, had dug out and added many years ago. Weak, cold, and shivering, the villagers huddled together in the dark, dank cellar to ride out the storm, as the howling winds above played tricks on their airs and they thought they heard the voices of the dead cursing at them and beckoning them towards death. It was many hours until dawn finally broke, and the survivors of the night let themselves back out into the chaos-filled streets above. They exited the cellar to find only the Town Hall remaining standing, it's solid stone-frame having been able to withhold the terrible storm the night before. Everything else in the village lay in ruins, utterly destroyed and ripped apart. The Waffle House* was completely wrecked, as the front wall and roof were completely torn off, but still standing, set into the foundation of the building, the door frame was still standing, with the door still hanging on, attached by one hinge. Tacked to the door, perfectly undisturbed, was a note: Here I am at the midnight hour. 4 Be ye not afraid, of the creaking from the door. 34 The blood on this knife, fills me with power. 25 The dust, debris, and cobwebs may hide things you're looking for. 12 A wondering soul as it passes the gates, 7 Slowly crawling across the wall, the subtle beam of light 12 is suddenly snatched by the one who waits. 25 provides enough to read by on the dreariest of night. 14 Till shade is gone, till water is gone,into the Shadow with teeth bared, They must be collected, every last one. 4 Give no thought to ghostly steps, that tip toe cross floor, 14’ Oh little villagers, it has almost begun. 7 for its only earthly tremors and a draft against the door. 11 You may have felt a shiver, running down your spine. 14 Why does one explain away the atmosphere in here? 25 It is merely a collection of souls, of which I shall combine. 14 Yet all who enter in this place are captives of its fear. 15 screaming defiance with the last breath, to spit in Sightblinder’s eye on the last Day. They told you to look toward the shadows, but you they have deceived. 149 Explain away with all your might, and argue with your demon. 4 I have told you multiple times, they are not to be believed. 7 Curse the day that you were born and pray that you're forgiven. 14 You have been foolish, thinking you can win... 4 And put away all daunting thoughts, 34 Oh little villagers, you do make me grin. 9 of why the doors keep creaking. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 12! Sprenil, Senna, and Malai have all died! Sprenil was a Regular Villager! Senna was a Wolfsister! Malai was a Thief-Taker! Sprenil had a Dragons Fang scrawled on his door! Day 4 will end in 48 hours at 10:30AM EST Monday, June 30th! Player ListTM

Night 3 has ended! Thread is locked and write-up coming shortly! (Hopefully)

From the nature of the Quick Fixes being condensed into the one Cycle, the particular Items and Actions in this game, I imagine it will all happen at once. Also, for double posts you can just edit the previous post you made instead of adding a new one. Edit: Also, will officially be letting everybody know that I will be sitting this game out, as the impartial-Mod. So if you have any issues or if anything comes up in the game, feel free to contact me with any worries or problems. Good luck and have a great game, everybody!

An Extension has been requested and the Night Turn will last the full 48 hours. That leaves ~18 hours from the time of this post until the Cycle Ends. And aw, why is nobody RP'ing and having fun in the awesome storm I summoned for all of you? = (

Bah. >.< Hopefully it's fixed now.

Ah, but then I'd have to deal with A.S.E.T.A, Aes Sedai for the Ethical Treatment of Animals. You do not want to have to deal with those people!

Night 3: The Storm Gathers Cycle will end at 9AM EST Saturday, June 28th or when all Night Actions get sent in. The dark, ominous storm clouds from the previous evening hung over the village of Drell's Crossing, blotting out the sun and casting the town in a gray, muggy shadow. Dawn was cold and dreary, with a brisk breeze issuing from the north, and it took many hours for all of the villagers to even rouse themselves from their beds, dreading to find out which of their neighbors didn't make it to see morning light. With the revelation of the former theif-catcher's true identity, most of the townsfolk had felt that a blanket of suspicion and mistrust had been lifted from over them, and the Coalition that had formed and taken up residence at The Waffle House -- the inn's new name -- urged all villagers who hadn't stepped forward with valuable information to do so immediately, citing the defense of the town from evil within as still being the primary goal of all involved. Deep inside the kitchen of the newly named Waffle House, however; bigger and tastier plots were afoot as Khamsi was hard at work. Humming a tune she had re-purposed for the villages situation, she labored over a stove top cooking up perfection. With one taste of her final product, tears streamed down her face and she rushed into down, declaring her new invention of waffles. Many were unfamiliar with the strange word, wondering if it was some sort of Old Tongue, but one bite showed the true brilliance of the gleewoman's creation. Encouraged by her success, Khamsi Zareef set her sights even higher, and declared her bid for Mayor, asking everybody if electing a fool as Mayor had been the best course of action to take, given the circumstances. Witless, who was in the middle of praising the gleewoman's culinary genius paused and gestured to the town with his spoon. “She's right you know,” he said between a mouthful of food, “I thought I was the one without wits, and then you all went and made me your leader. What's that make you?" Throughout the day most villagers became swayed and within no time at all, Khamsi was strolling around the town with the mayor sash wrapped around her. As the afternoon dragged on though, the villagers began to turn back towards darker matters, almost as if the darkening sky had reminded them of the evil that still lay in hiding, casting it's shadow over the town. Debate raged on with many accusations beginning to be thrown around but eventually people started to focus on the shaggy mare, Bela, who had still been freely roaming around town, even after a Dragon's Fang had shown up on her stable and that all of her accusers had all died in the previous night. As more voices began to agree about the suspicious activity of the horse, the wind began to kick up almost in response. It was nearly dark, with the overcast sky and fading light making it harder to see, and fat, cold rain drops began to fall as Bela was led out into the town square by the new mayor, Khamsi, a grim expression on her face “Never trust a horse that's too clever,” she said as she tightened the noose around the horses neck, pausing for a second just how to proceed with the hanging. “Never,” she reiterated, as lightning flashed above, as if to emphasize her point, as a crashing boom of thunder followed immediately after, as the skies opened up and rain began to fall in a torrential downpour, immediately soaking everything and instantly turning the ground to mud. In the following confusion, Bela kicked out at Khamsi, causing her to drop the rope in alarm, as the horse galloped off, as another flash of lightning showed the shaggy mare in mid-leap as she jumped the palisade surrounding the town and disappeared off into the night, leaving nothing but A Memory of Light. The Gathering Storm had finally landed. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Bela was a Regular Villager! (And maybe even The Creator!) Khamsi Zareef has been elected Mayor! Vote Count: Apologies if I did any wrong counting/tallying, but the results are still pretty undisputed Lynch Vote: Bela (6) - Khamsi, Douza, Witless, Trimat, Aspren, Rishi Bunnt (2) - Malai, Newan Dellan (+1) (2) - Ralv Trimat (1) - Senna Apologies for the abrupt end of the Write-up! Bela couldn't be lynched/killed, as that would create a Time Paradox in the WoT world, so just know she is dead, as far as this game is concerned. Hopefully nobody minds me placing a sudden storm for RP sake! Player ListTM

Heh, looks like my warning was unwarranted. It appears I can get the write-up done on time today! Day 3 is over with the write-up coming shortly!

Yet again, another declaration from your beloved GM Almighty! I might end up having the write-up be a little late (no more than a couple hours, hopefully), but the Day turn will still end at 8AM EST. Any votes or orders placed after that time will be invalid.

Just a reminder to make sure everybody has read and is following the Code of Conduct for these games that has been laid out in the Games Etiquette Policy thread.

Just a heads up, the Day 3 will be ending in about 12 hours from when this post is made.

Disney Movie Theme song Ska Covers? Check

Bah, may regret this, but here's me doing a quick-diddy of a Lavender Town Pokemon Theme Ukulele Cover. Edit: Fixed link

For the clarification check, Douza, you are correct. Since Fain's Corruptions happen last on the Stack, if he died, he was not able to perform any corruptions that night. Edit: Links have been fixed in the OP.

Day 3: Chaos Reigns The village of Drell's Crossing once again lay shrouded under shadowed veil of nightfall, with dark, ominous clouds hanging thick in the sky above, blocking out the moon and the stars. Many villagers tossed and turned in their beds in bouts of fitful sleep, plagued by haunted dreams and nightmares where the dead mocked them and beckoned them towards death. *** Jae walked slowly through the night, trying to stay right behind Joel, the grumpy hermit who walked ahead of him in the darkness and occasionally mumbling to himself. He looked back towards the Spruce Thicket, the newly re-opened inn that was just a speck of light in the distance from the edge of time, wishing once again that he was in there, in the warmth and feeling important, instead of out here on late-night patrol duty. It's not fair, he thought to himself, turning back around to watch his footing in the dark. Just a few days after he had worked up the courage to ask the old inn-keeper for work, the intimidating man had been hung and the inn had closed. Next thing he knew he had been rounded up for extra patrol duties before the gleewoman strolled in the building and claimed it for herself. Now it was being used by the Mayor for the center of operations, and Jae was stuck out here in the dark with someone who's social skills matched that of the horse who had been accused of being a darkfriend. If only I had known it was that easy, he rued to himself, unaware of the shadow sneaking up behind him, I would have walked up in there and taken it for myself. Up ahead, he thought he actually heard Joel say something outloud that shook him from his thoughts and went to ask him to repeat what he said when the cold dagger slid across his throat. When he went to speak, all the came out was a faint grunt as he began to choke on his own blood, as gloved hands quickly covered his mouth and slowly lowered him to the ground as his strength faded. “For the Great Lord.” Was all he heard as a voice whispered softly in his ear as he gave one last final spasm as the darkness quickly overtook him. *** Joel thought back to the events of the day prior, and shuddered once again at the image of the hanging wanderer as they kicked and flailed as they hung at the end of the rope. He sighed and turned to Jae, the young inn worker who had been conscripted into the late night patrol with him for the night. 'Be vigilant tonight, you never know what could happen.” He said, and sighed once again inward when he only heard a small grunt in response. He had always been anti-social, preferring to live off by himself and not have to worry about anybody or anything else. But with flaming trollocs raiding all throughout the countryside, and darkfriends working from within the village to murder everybody, bloody nowhere was safe. It was their third patrol around the village in the darkness, for they were forbidden to use torches to preserve wood and fuel, and to also save them from fire-blindness. Ever since the attack on the cobbler, Joel had started becoming worried about everything that was happening in town. He knew he trusted Waes, but there also lay a darker, deeper shadow over the village that was beginning to infect all of the townsfolk. Even earlier, some people had refused to comply with the injured cobbler's request to provide him with any vital information to help the village in it's time of need. Suspicion and mistrust lay heavy over the village, with nobody being able to trust anybody. Joel thought he heard a sound, and paused as he noticed Jae was no longer following right behind him. “Jae?” He asked in a hushed whisper, trying to peer into the darkness, wishing once again he had a torch to see with, or some sort of proper weapon instead of the rusted ax that he had been provided with. A small break in the clouds appeared, and standing in a beam of moonlight was a shadowed figure standing above a crumpled corpse, with fresh blood dripping from the dagger in their hands, and a wild, maniacal grin on their face as they began to laugh. Joel dropped his weapon in his fright and began to ran, dashing madly away from the killer, looking back over his shoulder every couple of seconds to make sure he wasn't be followed, although he could still hear the cruel laughter following him out into the night. He suddenly ran into something, with his momentum keeping him going and sending him sprawling to the ground. He lay on his back and tried to get to his feet and look and see what he ran into, but he felt a sudden stinging sensation from his chest, and when he checked with his hand, he found a small puddle of blood beginning to spread. “Why?” Was all he had time to ask before he felt another quick, sharp stab in his stomach, the blade twisting slightly and tearing at his organs, sending a spasm of pain throughout his body. “To let chaos reign,” a wicked voice responded, and as the dagger came down one last time, Joel could hear wolves off howling in the distance. *** Jim Bob Dirt crept stealthily through the night, trying to avoid being detected as he quietly tried to slip out of Drell's Crossing. Deciding to leave the village had been a hard decision to make, but he knew deep down to his core he wasn't cut out for the deceit and political games seemed to be playing. Bloody Daes Dae'mar, he muttered to himself as he eased between the wooden palisade that had been erected around the town, making sure to dodge anybody who was out on perimeter patrol. Daily votes on who should die or not, then going to bed just to wait and see who would die in the morning? That was not for him. He had thought that the training he had received Old Aethea had been enough, that he was ready to protect the villagers, but he was just not cut out to be a Wisdom. Aethea had seen the potential of the special soil that Jim Bob had acquired from Shara, with all of the exotic nutrients that it contained. His knowledge of botanics had impressed her, so when she started showing him all different types of herbs and medicines, he had thought he might have enjoyed this line of work. But then he saw the blood Oh, Light, the blood! He thought, suppressing a shiver, and redoubling his efforts to make it out into the country in a timely manner, to finally be free of this nightmare. He quickened his pace and scurried up a small hill, pausing at the top to catch his breath and take one look back at the town he was abandoning in it's time of need. His gaze lingered for a few moments, and after a moment's hesitation, he gave a small cry of defiance and began to head back towards the village. It was at this moment that a cloud in the sky moved out of the way of the luminous moon, suddenly bathing Jim Bob and the entire area around him in moonlight, and he saw that we was not alone. A lone figure stepped forward, clad in haphazardly sewn together animal skins and furs, with only their face hidden in the shadows. All but their golden eyes that shone fiercely from the darkness. They pointed at Bob Dirt and whispered one word, “Hunt.” Only the sound of a muffled thud behind him gave warning as he spun around just in time to see a massive gray, smoke-colored wolf as it bounded down the hill and leaped right at him, letting out a snarl as it's jaws closed around his neck with a savage crunch. He had enough time to feel the spurt of blood pain as his throat was tore lose, and as he flailed to the ground, he could hear the happy, haunting chorus of dozens of wolves howling in unison, singing their song of the hunt to moon. *** On the other side of town, hiding in the darkness sat Kaim, as he gleefully watched another villager be massacred by darkfriends, making his job that much easier for him in the long run. In the gathering shadows he waited, making preperations for when he himself would make his move against the village, slowly corrupting them all to his own twisted army. He slid his finger along the tip of the unsheathed dagger that was tucked into his belt unsheathed, the giant ruby that was set into it's hilt was glimmering softly in the moonlight provided from the small gap in the clouds above. A small token from the place that had helped birth him many years ago, the hallowed city of Shadar Logath. Back when Kaim had been a thief-catcher he had followed a deranged, dangerous criminal who had fled from the city of Baerlon after a series of murders. He had tracked him up to the old, crumbled walls of the forgotten abandoned city, but there the trail had ended. The entire city reeked of an evil stench much worse than any other that he had ever come across in his day, but he wasn't going to let the madman escape justice, so with the sun beginning to set in the sky above, he had entered the city of Shadar Logath, the Place Where the Shadow Waits. He never found the criminal inside the city, but he did come across something much, much worse. He emerged from the city as something not entirely human, something long forgotten, The force that scared the forces of the Dark One and even sent Machin Shin fleeing in terror was free upon the world once more. Hearing the sudden howls of wolves brought Kaim out of his memories, and he decided he had enough joy from watching this evening. Fog slowly began to creep in around him as he moved through the streets, wondering who he should corrupt among the villagers first. Fear and suspicion had already begun to creep its away among the villagers, with the accusing each other of being darkfriends and murdering each other. He had even seen a fresh Dragon's Fang scrawled on Dellan's door earlier in the evening. The Taint that had consumed Aridohl was already growing fresh and strong in the village, working it's way to destroy everything the villagers had loved and cared for. But it could be stronger still, he told himself, wondering again who he would corrupt when he eventually decided to make his move. Whoever will help me sow the most discord, he thought to himself with a bark of laughter. As he made it to the edge of the village, the fog around him had thickened into swirling dense pockets that seemed to flow from around him. Mashadar was always the strongest before dawn, when darkness held the strongest sway. So deep was the fog that he didn't see the fireball it punched through the wall of mist that surrounded him, and he only had a second to cry out before it struck him, setting his clothes and flesh ablaze. He let out a barbaric roar of rage as he felt his skin begin to melt as he began to thrash around on the ground, trying to extinguish the flames, but the fog of Mashadar began to wither in the light of the fire, and the tormented screams of Kaim slowly faded away until all that could be heard was silence. *** As the sun crept over the horizon, a note was found left attached to the door of the Spruce Thicket: This time that's now, this midnight hour 25 Hiding those who creep and lour 14 Inside your mind, they're in your head 83 Sneakily slithering towards your bed 11 cor duente mordero Mark the time and feel what's present 14 In the black below the lifeless crescent 4 Dire is the darkness as they slyly slink 34 Not close yet, but nearer than you think In disturbing dreams do you soundly sleep? 14 Gnashing teeth ward off those who creep 8 Hideous creatures who skulk and lour Take their advantage in this midnight hour 49 rahien corenne-i mael Heinous Harpies with sharpened claws 14 Outside your head, but inside your doors 2 Unconscious dreamer can you feel them sink 14 Rapacious fangs into you and drink? -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Joel, Jae, Jim Bob Dirt, and Kaim were murdered! A Dragon Fang was found scrawled on Dellan's Door! Joel and Jae were Regular Villagers Jim Bob Dirt was Wisdom Kaim was Padan Fain! Edit: Forgot Dragon Fang result. >.<..... AND The Dreamwalker Message. XD Day 3 Begins and ends in 48 Hours at 8AM EST Thursday, June 26th! ListTM of Players: