Metacognition

From an RP stand point, Soothers and Rioters shouldn't be able to target themselves, but from a game stand point, they should be able to. Most of the time, as long as it won't affect game balance, I defer to the RP. Unfortunately, I think that this would affect game balance in this case. Soothers and Rioters can target themselves.

Night 8: Loose Threads Ament spent quite a lot of time in his shop. It wasn’t out of fear or an unwillingness to help, but because he knew who he was; just a simple tailor. He wasn’t the kind to lead charges or to sway the hearts of the people. So he’d help in ways that he knew, through his trade. He was just finishing up with the latest of his helpful projects as the villagers argued outside. Ament wasn’t really listening though. He let their words roll over him like water over a stone; without really comprehending the words. He just kept pushing the needle through the fabric. It was soothing and peaceful to him; though he figured most people would likely find it intensely boring. Ament enjoyed his work. Well, most of it. Baron von Piffertiff’s constant requests and then complaints at the finished product would be enough to get under anyone’s skin over time, but for the most part, Ament found something incredibly satisfying about a job well done. The best part was that he could see how his efforts had helped all of the villagers every time he left his shop. Almost everyone in Tyrian Falls wore something that he had made. It’s easy to tell that you’ve made a difference in the lives of those around you when you can see them using the cloak you made them to protect them from the cold in winter or when you can see the multiple repairs someone has made because it’s their favorite pair of pants. He pulled the last stitch through and tied it off with practiced hands. He held up his finished product with a smile, checking to make sure everything was perfect. He was about to set them down with the rest when his front door burst open and the villagers charged in. Some were carrying pitchforks and torches, like any good mob would. They seized him with little less than a few words. Some of the people in the back were grumbling something about the Spiked as they dragged him out of his shop. Ament didn’t try to fight them. Whether that was because he was afraid or confused or a bit of both, not even he could entirely make out. They couldn’t possibly think that he was Spiked…. could they? Before he could recover enough to try to defend himself, something slammed against the back of his knees and he found himself crouched in the ash, surrounded by people wearing his handiwork. It seemed like they had forgotten who had clothed them over the years, but before he could even open his mouth to protest, someone behind him swung the same axe that they had used to kill the Lady Ashette through his neck…. Half of the villagers went to search his shop for signs of his Spikedness. The rest started checking his body. When no visible spikes jumped out to them, the villagers started to grow desperate. Surely they hadn’t been wrong again! He just had to be Spiked! Then Wyra came out of the shop, looking downcast. “Umm, guys?” She said so as to get their attention. They looked over at her with hope in their eyes. Perhaps they weren’t wrong after all! But what she was carrying put an end to their hopes quickly. “I think we messed up.” Wyra was carrying about 15 pairs of freshly made work gloves; Ament’s last project. He had obviously meant for them to help those that were working on rebuilding the wall. ______________________________________________________________________ Day 7 is over and Night 8 begins! You have 24 hours to get in your orders! Ament was a Regular Villager! Votes (7) Ament- Maill, Melend, Senn, Clancy, Odustren, Wyra, Newan (8) No Vote- Baron von Piffertiff, Joe, Dom, Peng, Jain, Ament, Damon, Larry Updated Player List

Day 7: Refunded Dreams The Villagers were actually feeling pretty good about themselves. Sure, they had killed many innocents. Sure, the Koloss were growing closer by the day, but they were making progress. The wall wasn’t done, but it was growing and they had found one of the Spiked! It wasn’t much, but after the hardships they’d already faced, it was something. They just needed to continue it. For the first time in what felt like a long time, the Villagers went to bed with a clear conscious. Reeco was having a pleasant dream. He was back in his home country and he was still just a little boy. His father was teaching him the secret art of his culinary skills. Little Reeco was covered head to foot in flour, but he didn’t mind. His time with his dad was precious to him. His father tossed the circular dough into the air and Little Reeco would just stare in amazement. He taught him how to make the perfect sauce and how to make sure that every topping was exactly where it needed to be. The pizza would come out of the oven, baked to perfection and they would smile and laugh and Little Reeco would eat a slice as he sat on his father’s knee. Then Reeco’s dream took a turn and it was his turn to make a pizza. The dough never flew right and tore with every attempted flip. It looked more like a wedge of cheese, with most of the dough on one side, rather than a pizza. The sauce pooled at the bottom, no matter how much he tried and the toppings were uneven. Little Reeco bit his lip as he put his monstrosity in the oven. His dream flashed forward and there was smoke pouring out of the oven! Little Reeco coughed and choked as he tried to get to the oven. Just a little farther…. And he was awake. The coughing hadn’t been just in the dream and his eyes watered as he opened them in a room almost filled with smoke. This fire was all too real and Reeco rolled out of bed and onto the hard floor with a groan. On his hands and knees, he scrapped his way towards the main room of the tavern. The main room was ablaze. Everywhere he looked, there was fire. Reeco watched through teary eyes as his livelihood went up in smoke around him. He thought about rushing to his oven and seeing if there was anything to save, but his father’s words echoed across time to him “The tools don’t make the pizza; you do. You can have the finest oven and ingredients in all the land, but if you don’t put enough love into your pizza then she’s no better than gruel.” He started to inch his way back away from the fire when his foot hit something; something sharp. He looked back to find out that not everything was lost in the fire. His pizza cutter had definitely made it and it was blocking off his escape. In fact, it was trying to edge him even further into the main room. Reeco tried to stand, but the smoke was too thick and the air so hot that he barely made it to a crouch before the hairs on his head started to singe. He fell back to the ground, looking desperately for a way out! As he didn’t move any further forward, the pizza slicer stayed true to its namesake and cut through the sole of his shoe and into the arch of his foot. He jerked his foot forward with a moan, but in doing so, his hand fell into the flames. There wasn’t anything for it. Either stay here and be sliced in half by his own equipment or dare a run through the flames. Reeco studied the layout to the front door one last time, took a deep breath and while trying to stay as low to the ground as possible, rushed towards the front door. Reeco hadn’t stood a chance. The cut in his foot made him stumble and fall on the second step and even if it hadn’t, the liquor at the bar decided that that was the perfect time to explode. The pizza slicer fell to the floor, lifeless, as someone made their way out of the building. ______________________________________________________________________ For the rest of the Villagers, it was the first night all over again. They hadn’t noticed until the building was already wreathed in flames. The lines to the wells weren’t cut this time, but there were too few of them left to do much good against the fire. What was worse than another villager lost and another building burnt down was the fact that Reeco’s tavern was where they had been stockpiling their food! Even if they did survive the Koloss, winter was right around the corner and now most of their food was gone…. When most of them had finally given up on being able to put the fire out and just sat despondently staring at the flames, some of them could’ve sworn that they heard a malevolent chuckle on the wind, but surely that was their imagination, right? _______________________________________________________________________ As night gave way to day and the mists started retreating, it was a weary town that made its way to the wall to continue repairs. They might not have much food and they might still have Spiked to find, but that didn’t mean that they were going to give up! Luckily for them, someone had taken part of the night to try to bolster their spirits. There was a message written across the entire span of the new wall: A Speech. One which may be my last. My last was a call to arms, this one is a declaration of hope. You all know me now. It's no secret who I am. I am proud of my capabilities and I love this village. It pains me to see eleven of our brethren and our sisters taken from us, some by our very own hands. The anger that swept this town will destroy it if we do not get it under control. We will be destroyed, the koloss will Ruin us, if we do not fight with Honor. I will fight with you as long as I can, for I am one of you always in my heart. I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for life in the history of our cosmere. Two years ago, a great Survivor, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, killed the Lord Ruler. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of skaa who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity. But two years later, the skaa still are not free. Two years later, the lives of skaa are still sadly crippled by the manacles of conquerors and the chains of force. Two years later, skaa lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. Two years later, the skaa still languishes in the corners of our society and finds himself an exile in his own land. And so we've come here today to dramatize a shameful condition. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind ourselves of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of freedom. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of oppression to the sunlit path of freedom. Now is the time to lift our town from the quicksands of injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of us, Skaa and noble. It would be fatal for the town to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of our discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. This is not an end, but a beginning. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in Tyrian Falls until we are granted our freedom. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges. But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred. We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed our community must not lead us to a distrust of all people, for many of our brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. And they have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone. As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. We can never be satisfied as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of war, cannot rest for fear of invasion and destruction. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their youth and robbed of their chance at life by these traitors. No, no we are not satisfied and we will not be satisfied until freedom rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream. I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from brutal plantations. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of prejudice. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair. I say to you today my friends -- so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. I have a dream that one day this town will rise up and live out the true purpose of its creation. I have a dream that one day on the red-lit hills of Fadrex the sons of skaa and the sons of noblemen will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. I have a dream that one day even the city of Luthadel, a city sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. I have a dream that my children will one day live in a town where they will not be judged by their heritage but by the content of their character. I have a dream today. I have a dream that one day down in Urteau, with its vicious haters, with its "Citizen" having his lips dripping with the words of revenge and anger -- one day right there in Urteau little skaa boys and skaa girls will be able to join hands with little noble boys and noble girls as sisters and brothers. I have a dream today. This is our hope. This is the faith that I stay here with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our city into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to play together, to struggle together, to fight together, knowing that we will be free one day. And if we are to be a great people, this must become true. And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of Fadrex. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of Terris. Let freedom ring from the keeps of Luthadel. Let freedom ring from the canals of Urteau. But not only that; let freedom ring from here in Tyrian Falls. Let freedom ring. And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring -- when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every dominance and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of us --Skaa men and noble men-- will be able to join hands and sing. This week, we started on a mighty fight. We have fought through betrayals and through despair. We have fought on barricades and rested the bodies of our brothers and sisters in the ground. Some of our faces are burned from the outpourings of the sweltering sun. Some have literally slept in the mud. We have been drenched by the rains. Our bodies are tired and our souls are somewhat sore. They told us we wouldn't last this long here. And there were those who said that we would get here only over their dead bodies, but all the world today knows that we are here and we are standing before the forces of power in the town of Tyrian Falls saying, "We ain't goin' let nobody beat us down. Once more the method of resistance was unsheathed from its scabbard, and once again an entire community was mobilized to confront the adversary. And again the brutality of a dying order shrieks across the land. Yet, Tyrian Falls became a shining moment in the conscience of man. If the worst in our lives lurked in its dark streets, the best of put instincts arose passionately from across the town to overcome it. The battle is in our hands. And we can answer with creative fighting the call to higher ground to which the new directions of our struggle summons us. The road ahead is not altogether a smooth one. There are no broad highways that lead us easily and inevitably to quick solutions. But we must keep going. I know you are asking today, "How long will it take?" Somebody's asking, "How long will prejudice blind the visions of men, darken their understanding, and drive bright-eyed wisdom from her sacred throne?" Somebody's asking, "When will wounded justice, lying prostrate on the streets of Tyrian Falls and communities all over the world, be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men?" Somebody's asking, "When will the radiant star of hope be plunged against the nocturnal bosom of this lonely night, (Speak, speak, speak) plucked from weary souls with chains of fear and the manacles of death? How long will justice be crucified, and truth bear it?" I come to say to you this night, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long, because "truth crushed to earth will rise again." How long? Not long, because "no lie can live forever." How long? Not long, because "you shall reap what you sow." This battle will be won. It will be fought with valor and courage as it has been. We will survive and we will continue on. Hope is never lost, for hope, as our Survivor said, is the one thing that can never be killed. Fight on! _______________________________________________________________________ Night 7 is over and Day 7 begins! You have 48 hours! Reeco was a Village Soother! Updated Player List

I knew I forgot something, but I was busy. The OP of the game put all of the HTML in the post when I edited it, so I had to fix all that. I'll get it added asap.

Night 7: Repairs and Reparations The village, while distraught over yet another death, seemed to find solace in the inspiring words of the epic written into the street. Today would be their day. Today they would become better than themselves… or at least that’s what they told themselves. It didn’t take long before the day seemed to try to turn on them. When they got to the wall, they found that the foundation they had layed yesterday was already falling apart. The mortar was crumbling in places and without that solid foundation, the wall would just come crumbling down around them if they didn’t fix it. With a lot of groans and grumbling, they had to tear up huge chunks of wall before they could continue. Then their tools started breaking, the wood either rotting or cleverly cut. The mortar had been mixed too thin to hold anything. By noon, the villagers motivation was being sapped out of them quite quickly. Reeco was at his oven, preparing lunch for everyone (had to keep their strength up) when his huge, wooden spatula broke off at the handle. Upon inspection, it too had been cut. It was also the straw that broke the camel’s back. “That’s it!” He was yelling and stomping throughout the store as the weary villagers shuffled in. “It’s one thing to sabotage the town, but it’s entirely another to sabotage pizza! Don’t we have someone that’s supposed to be repairing these things?” Riew stepped forward, amidst quite a bit of grumbling from the rest of the villagers, looking incredibly glum. “I would, but that first night, remember? I fell out the window? Broke my arm? It’s difficult to do repairs one handed. I’m sorry. I’m doing the best I can.” Reeco and the others looked ashamed as Riew started heading towards the door. Then someone remembered how Riew had been helping to haul boulders all yesterday (even if he did favor his right arm at the time) and hadn’t he been the last one at the wall as well? Rust, thought Riew. I almost had em too! Before they got around to thinking to stop him, Riew took off as if he had an angry mob at his back. It didn’t take long for that to become the case though. He sprinted through the town. Nowhere to hide now. They’re too close for that. I’ll just have to trust Ruin and get out of town! He scrambled up the rubble that would eventually be the new wall. By the time he reached the top, the villagers were just arriving at the base. He was home free. He’d be long gone before they got up and over. He turned to face them with a laugh. “It’s been so much fun, watching you kill each other, but it seems my time here is over. I’ve done my part. My only regret is that I won’t get to watch as the Koloss rip the rest of you to shreds! You’ll never finish your pathetic wall in time now!” As if to highlight his point, a dark plume of smoke seemed to silhouette him from behind. “Enjoy your grave, maggots! You can not stand against Ruin’s will!” As Riew turned to leave, someone noticed that the part of the wall Riew was standing on was a section that Riew had weakened the mortar. They grabbed the nearest shovel and struck at the foundation with a desperate strength. They couldn’t let him just get away! The villagers had to jump back as that section of the wall started to crumble exactly as Riew had planned for it to, just not with him at the top! He stumbled and fell back into the village as the once solid wall shifted under his feet. The avalanche of stone wasn’t done yet though. They rolled over him; crushing him. He was buried in his own handiwork. ________________________________________________________________________ Day 6 ends and Night 7 begins! You have 24 hours. Riew was a Spiked Smoker! Votes (6) Riew- Baron von Piffertiff, Joe, Melend, Peng, Newan, Wyra (3) Newan- Senn, Claincy, Reeco (2) Baron von Piffertiff- Jain, Riew (1) Senn- Maill (5) No Votes- Dom, Odustren, Ament, Damon, Larry Updated Player List

Day 6: Broken Oddities Herwynbe felt like an oddity wherever he went. He was the only Terrisman in Tyrian Falls, but more importantly, he was the only Terrisman he knew of that had Allomancy. He had never been able to figure out how that had happened. He had tried to trace his lineage back, but the Lord Ruler’s breeding programs made that difficult. His only solace was that maybe his oddity could help save this town. Not that he’d had much luck before this. He had innocent blood on his hands and he was starting to doubt himself. He thought he had good reasoning for every kill he had made, but every time, he had been proven wrong. If he killed one more innocent, he’d likely take his own life in shame. Riew was still favoring his arm a little, but it had mostly healed. He was also one of the last to leave the building of the new wall, which the villagers had worked on until the mists made it too difficult to see what they were doing. That made him incredibly easy for Herwynbe to follow. Riew stopped off at Reeco’s tavern/pizzeria for a late dinner and a drink before heading home for the night. Herwynbe stayed out in the mists, not wanting to be seen. He didn’t want to, as being out in the mists alone was a pretty good way to turn up dead these days, but there was nothing he could do about it. And hopefully, out of everyone in the town, he stood the best chance of fighting back if the Spiked attacked him. When Riew left, Herwynbe stayed as far back as possible; he could only barely make his target out in the folds of the mist. As they neared the town square, Riew paused, looking down at his feet and scratched his head as if he had seen something puzzling or had just thought of something. It was now or never. Herwynbe took out a single coin. He had shaved the edges down to make it sharper. Herwynbe didn’t believe in luck. He burned steel, the blue line to the coin jumping out at him. He held it in his palm, pointing towards Riew and with a final, silent prayer, he pushed. The coin zipped out of his outstretched hand on a perfect trajectory for Riew’s chest. Herwynbe almost couldn’t bare to watch. If he was wrong this time…. Just before Herwynbe turned away, the coin veered off to the right halfway between him and Riew. He jumped slightly, surprised by the sudden change and he heard his coin thunk into something wooden. Riew jumped at the sound as well and with a quick glance both left and right, he took off like an arrow from a bow, quickly fading into the mists. Herwynbe didn’t know whether to be grateful or disappointed in this turn of events. True, he hadn’t killed his target, but that also meant that he hadn’t possibly killed yet another villager. He turned to go back to the small tenement that he was renting, knowing that he’d have to still make this decision again the next night and the one after that and so for until the town was purged of the Spiked or the Koloss rolled over them. But at least for tonight maybe he could sleep peacefully, knowing that he hadn’t added to the list of those that he would have to apologize to in the afterlife. It was because he was so consumed in his own thoughts (and the fact that he had turned off his steel) that he never noticed the dagger arcing through the air until it was already buried in his back. ________________________________________________________________________ When the Villagers woke up to continue trying to rebuild the wall, they were greeted by three odd sights in the town square. The first being Herwynbe’s body. The second being that someone had swept the entire square free of ash. The third was that someone had used the cleared space to write an epic more inspiring than the Iliad: It is time for us to fight, and we do so not because we seek the glory of men, but because the other options are worse. We follow the Codes not because they bring gain, but because we loathe the people we would otherwise become. We stand her.e on this battlefield of our town alone because of who we are. Death is the end of all men! What is the measure of him once he is gone? The wealth he accumulated and left for his heirs to squabble over? The glory he obtained, only to be passed on to those who slew him? The lofty positions he held through happenstance? No. We fight here because we understand. The end is the same. It is the path that separates men. When we taste that end, we will do so with our heads held high, eyes to the sun. I am not ashamed of what I have done. Other men may debase themselves to destroy me. Let them have their glory. For I will retain mine! Yes, these are Spiked. Yes, we’re going to fight them. I don’t know what they can do. I don’t know why they’ve come. But we are here to stop them. I know you’re scared, but you have seen my messages in the night. In the town, the others mocked me and dismissed what I’d seen as delusions. Well out there, you see proof that my visions were true! Out there, you see what I have been told would come! I have been sent by the Survivor himself to save this land from destruction. I have seen what those things can do; I have lived lives broken by the Spiked. I’ve seen kingdoms shattered, peoples ruined, technology forgotten. I’ve seen civilization itself brought to the trembling edge of collapse. We will prevent this! Today you fight not for the wealth of a nobleman, or even for the honor of your Lord Ruler. Today, you fight for the good of all men. You will not fight alone! Trust in what I have seen, trust in my words. If those things have returned, then so must the forces that once defeated them. We will see miracles before this day is out, men! We merely have to be strong enough to deserve them. Today, men, I ask of you your lives. I ask of you your lives, and your courage. I ask of you your faith, and your honor— your strength, and your compassion. For today, I lead you to die. I will not ask you to welcome this event. I will not insult you by calling it well, or just, or even glorious. B.ut I will say this. Each moment you fight is a gift to those in this town. Each second we fight is a second longer that those people can draw breath. Each stroke of the sword, each koloss felled, each breath earned is a victory! It is a person protected for a moment longer, a life extended, an enemy frustrated! In the end, they will kill us, But first, they shall fear us! Citizens, do you imagine the future? The streets of the cities flooded with light, green branches on the thresholds, men just, the old blessing the children, the past loving the present, thinkers in full liberty, believers in full equality, human conscience the altar, no more hatred, the fraternity of the workplace and the school, for reward and for penalty, notoriety; to all, labor; for all, law; over all, peace; no more bloodshed, no more war, mothers happy! Courage, and forward! Citizens, where are we headed? To science made government, to the force of things recognized as the only public force, to the natural law having its sanction and penalty in itself and spread by its own self-evidence, to a dawn of truth corresponding with the dawn of day. We are tending toward the union of the peoples; we are tending toward the unity of man. No more fictions; no more parasites. The real governed by the true, such is the aim. I venerate you. Yes, you clearly see future ages; you are right. Citizens, whatever happens today, through our defeat as well as through our victory, we are going to effect a revolution. Just as fires light up the whole city, revolutions light up the whole human race. And what revolution shall we bring about? I’ve just said it, the revolution of the True. From the political point of view, there is one single principle: the sovereignty of man over himself. Light! Light! Everything comes from light, and everything returns to it. Men will be happy. Friends, this hour we are living in and in which I am speaking to you is a somber one, but such is the terrible price of the future. Oh! The human race will be delivered, uplifted, and consoled! We are affirming it in this town. Where would the shout of love begin, if not from the summit of sacrifice? Here day embraces night, and says: I will die with you and you will be born again with me. From the heavy embrace of all desolations springs faith. Sufferings bring their agony here, and ideas their immortality. This agony and immortality will mingle and make up our death. Brother.s, whoever dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a grave illuminated by the dawn.” Arise, arise, Citizens of Tyrian Falls! Fell deeds awake: fire and slaughter! spear shall be shaken, shield be splintered, a sword- day, a red day, ere the sun rises! Run now, run now! Run to the gates! Sons of Tyrian Falls! My brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me! A day may come when the courage of men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship. But it is not this day. An hour of Spiked and shattered shields when the age of Men comes crashing down! But it is not this day! This day we fight! By all that you hold dear on this good Earth, I bid you stand! I see a whole army of my townsmen here in defiance of these conquerors. You have come to fight as free men, and free men you are. What would you do without freedom? Will you fight? Aye, fight and you may die. Run and you'll live -- at least a while. And dying in your beds many years from now, would you be willing to trade all the days from this day to that for one chance, just one chance to come back here and tell our enemies that they may take our lives, but they'll never take our freedom! We must defy the Spiked... No.t with violence that will inflame their will, but with a firmness that will open their eyes. When I despair, I remember that the way of truth and love has always won. There may be tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it: always. Fight now and live! Never give up! Honor shall be yours! __________________________________________________________________________ Day 6 begins! You have 48 hours. Herwynbe was a Village Coinshot! Updated Player List

I have to be fair. I can't make exceptions and I waited till the very last minute. Sorry!

Night 6: All Work and No Play Tyrian Falls wasn’t having the best day. Another round of people had been found dead and they found out that their food stores had been infested with rats, contaminating everything and making a prolonged siege impossible. On top of that, they had yet to find any of the culprits responsible! Even so, you don’t live in the shadow of an Ashmount without becoming a hardy people and they soldiered on. Even with repairs to the wall going slowly (tools seemed to break at every turn), they never gave up hope. They would fight until the end. Today, they put their fears of the Spiked behind them. The recent scout reports said the Koloss were only a few days out, depending on how fast they traveled, so today was all about rebuilding. They pulled together and decided that it was pointless to try to rebuild the western gate, not with the time they had, so instead they were closing it off completely. They used stones from the burnt barracks and were stacking them and sealing them; hoping to make a strong enough wall to deter the Koloss. “Put yer backs into it!” Cried a voice from atop one of the nearby homes. “In my youth, we’d haul boulders twice as big from sun up to sun down and then the next day have to move them back! Why, we’d have a wall that was 30 meters high by now!” Peng stood on his rooftop, “encouraging” the rest of the villagers below with tales of his past. Though he was well past his prime, he seemed extremely energetic, constantly waving his cane through the air, as he shouted down to them. “If I had stored strength, I’d show you whippersnappers hows it’s done! Put yer backs into it! If there were any metal in them stones, I’d lift them from here!” Most people just rolled their eyes and grumbled as they went past, continuing to work on the wall. “Hey guys! Look at this!” Cried Newan. “I finally figured out how to swing a sword! I’ll be a hero in no time!” Newan stood off to the side, practicing his “forms,” which he had mainly made up in his head. They were incredibly impractical to anyone who knew even the slightest bit about which end of a sword to hold. “Wow! Check this out! If I swing it like this, it cuts sideways!” “This is what’s wrong with yer generation; no backbone! Back in my day, the ash didn’t fall as harshly as it does today! Hey! Speaking of, you there! Get off of my ash! If you’ve got time to lean, you’ve got time to haul more stones!” The day went on and on. By the time afternoon was coming on, most of the town was grumpy, tired, and drained both physically and mentally. And they hadn’t made nearly as much headway as they hoped. their new “wall” wasn’t more than a few meters high. “Hiyaa! And take that! And that! How about another one of these! Ha! Nothing can stop me now! Don’t you guys worry! I’ll find those Spiked in no time! In fact, here, test me! I’m ready for it! Go ahead and throw something at me! I’ll block it with my awesome sword skills!” After having to put up with the two constantly rubbing it in the rest of their faces, the villagers had had enough. Someone chucked a baseball-sized rock at Newan’s head. Surprisingly, maybe he had learned something, as he actually hit the rock! It traveled up at such a crazy angle, that it clipped Peng in the shoulder, throwing him off balance. With a cry of startlement and pain, Peng stumbled around his rooftop. In his daze, he stumbled right off the edge and landed in a huge pile of ash. The villagers crowded around, expecting the worst, but seconds later, to both their relief and dismay, Peng popped out of the ash, waving his cane around. “I’m okay!” He shouted. “Now what are all of you doing, standing around gawking! Don’t you have a wall to build? Get back to it!” The villagers went back to their work; the entire time wondering how much it would cost to hire someone to, from here on out, sweep up the ash that piled up on their streets…. ____________________________________________________________________ Day 5 ends and Night 6 begins! You have 23 hours to get your orders in, as I try to keep us on track. No one died! Votes (4) Newan- Herwynbe, Reeco, Peng, Senn (4) Peng- Maill, Clancy, Wyra, Riew (1) Wyra- Baron von Piffertiff (1) Herwynbe- Newan (8) No Votes- Joe, Dom, Melend, Jain, Damon, Odustren, Larry, Ament

And the day is over! With the flurry of activity at the end here, I need a little bit of time to finish the write up, but I'll get it up as soon as possible!

Day 5: Scavenger Hunt Being Joe’s apprentice did have its perks. For one, Cleo had access to all the copper she would ever need and she knew that it was properly balanced! Those perks didn’t include surviving a scared and violent town that had Koloss marching on it. Joe had left her in charge of cleaning everything up for the night, as he typically did. While they typically weren’t very busy even during the best of times, the deaths of so many people had cut into their business even more. It wouldn’t take her long to organize everything for tomorrow, but Cleo took her time. No need to rush, since there wouldn’t be any more customers for the night. She shaved slivers and flakes off of larger bars of metal and refilled the jars and bowls of shavings. She molded tiny pellets of various metals as well, since some Allomancers prefered their metals in larger quantities. She was just finishing up collecting all the finer particles, which would be sold as metal dust to be mixed into drinks when the front door slammed open. A silhouetted figure stood in the doorway and before Cleo could do more than gape at them, the bowl of copper dust in her hands came alive and scattered the dust everywhere, concealing everything. She was literally within a coppercloud. If she had more time, the thought would’ve likely amused her, but less than a second afterwards, something far larger and far more solid shot through the crowd and hit her in the chest, driving deep enough into her body to hit her heart and she crumpled to the floor. _______________________________________________________________________ The letter had been waiting for her when she arrived home from the Lady Ashette’s death. It wasn’t sitting in the “messages to be delivered” box that Wilson kept for everyone to drop off whatever letter, notes, missives, etc. they needed carried. No, this one had been sitting on her table and it was addressed to her. She had spent the rest of the day debating whether she should open it. Someone had broken into her home, left her a note, and disappeared without a trace. She didn’t have any secret admirers that she knew of, so there was likely only one source for it. She tried to lay down and leave it till morning, but she couldn’t sleep. Curiosity ate at her until finally she rolled out of bed, got dressed, and ripped open the note. As the first day began to fade away into night, two lights stood out against the darkness. The flames of Edgar’s forge suddenly vanished, extinguished as if a life had ended. All the while, the second light flared brighter against the night sky, a signal of destruction yet to come. Alv’s cousin slept in the fourth bed on the left. Yep, quite unlikely a secret admirer, unless they had a taste for the macabre. It was a riddle or a hint that they obviously wanted her to follow. She knew that she obviously shouldn’t do it- it was likely a trap, but she also could just let this opportunity pass. So many villagers had already died and if she could outsmart them, then maybe she could figure out who was behind the killings! She knew she should go for help, but the trail was already growing cold. What if they left before she solved their puzzle? She had wasted most of the evening and into the night already! Her mind racing, she tried to figure out the riddle. Flames, A second light, destruction…. Of course! She grabbed her cloak hanging by the door and dashed out into the night. * The barracks were a charred blackened rubble. With the threat of death looming over them, no one had had the chance to clear it away. This meant that it was also incredibly unstable and the sections that were still standing could come tumbling down at the slightest provocation. If someone wanted to kill her, this would be the easiest place for it. Wilson carefully picked her way way through the wreckage.She had been to the barracks often, as many of the men there were from surrounding farms and so they constantly received messages from any family member that could actually write. She found where the fourth bed on the left would’ve been if it hadn’t been burned to the ground. The problem with not being able to clear the rubble was that they couldn’t get to all the bodies. It was mostly buried under the collapsed ceiling, but it still held a pristine white note in its burned hand. Wilson almost retched right then and there, but took the note and quickly fled out of the burnt out shell of the barracks. * Clean air had never tasted so good and she took a few deep breaths before opening the second note. Another puzzle. Wilson almost threw down the note in disgust. They were playing with her! She almost stomped off home and forgot the whole thing, but then she thought of all the people who had already died and all the people who were still alive. She couldn’t give up now, so she set her mind to figuring out the riddle. As night turned to day for the second time, a fool flew high in the mists. Falling in his ignorance, he sought an escape; only to find what he fled. He escaped, finally, showing those who followed after where to tread. His path started above the barracks, seventh stone on the right. Above the barracks?!? But the barracks were burnt to the ground! This made no sense at all… unless…. Wilson groaned as she walked across town to the gates on the east side of the village. They were the only way to get up on top of the wall since the western gates had been destroyed. * When she finally made it back around to the barracks, she crept forward slowly. Anything could be hiding in the mists and unless they were just sending her on a wild goose chase, each time she went wherever the notes told her to go very well could be the last. When she neared the spot near where they had found Karnad’s body, she carefully looked around. Jutting out between two stones was another note. She snatched it and quickly retreated, just in case it was a trap. She waited until after she was off the wall to open it. How funny it is, that imagination must flee From our first years of youth, to almost eternity. A koloss horde He saw not, bored. And didn’t believe the realities we see. Which is worse: a fabricated illusion Or the illusion of reality? But a severed head, And now he’s dead, Upon a porch of mysteries. Then, as if the very act of reading the note had attracted his specter, a final line materialized right before her very eyes. That’s great and all, but Aralis disagrees At least the ghost had given her a hint and it gave her hope that she was on the right track and that she would actually be able to help save Tyrian Falls. She set off toward’s Aralis’ home. * By the time she got there, the very first hints of dawn were on the horizon. It wasn’t even light per se, just a faint greying of the darkened sky. She could already see the white envelope sitting on Aralis’ rocking chair, so she strode forward confidently. Just as she was reaching down to pick up the note, a shadow fell over her. She didn’t even have time to straighten up before it felt like something exploded against the back of her head and she fell unconscious. * “Hold her up and keep her steady! We only get one chance at this!” whispered one of the Spiked. Two other Spiked were struggling to keep an unconscious Wilson steady between them and were having some difficulty. She was out cold, so her body was limp. No one knew what had been used to kill Eoladdin except the Spiked. While it had seemed odd to them to use a spike (it reeked of unoriginality), Ruin had commanded them and so they had. Now they were supposed to use the same spike on Wilson. On top of that, they were supposed to not kill her! Who ever heard of Ruin actually saving someone?!? But they knew what they were supposed to do and they would carry out Ruin’s orders. The one holding the spiked aimed for just below Wilson’s heart. They drew back, readying their strike. As the Spiked with the spike lunged forward, driving the stake home, the one on the left slipped and dropped Wilson. The spike went through her neck instead and killed her instantly. They stood around looking at each other agast right up until the first rays of actual day touched the mist and it started melting away. Then, without a word, they ran in opposite directions, disappearing before anyone could see them. ____________________________________________________________________ When the villagers went to Wilson’s home to search for clues, they found another note, except this one was in her “messages to be delivered” box. It was written differently than the other ones they had found. ʎǝ sɔnɹʌʎ poƃs¡ ʎnɐʌ ʇsnɯ бүх ʌ ɯǝuʇıɹɐs ɹǝʌǝןɐʇɐ¿ ɐɯɐuƃɐ qɐuı ʞnuʎɐ uıǝʞɐs˙ ʞǝs болып табылады ןǝżąɔʎ¿ Kill the spiked! ______________________________________________________________________ Day 5 begins and will last 48 hours! Special thanks to the Dead Doc, specifically Araris, Ren, and Aonar for their help with the Spiked messages! I couldn’t have gotten this done without you guys! Cleo was a Village Smoker! Wilson was a Village Lurcher! Updated Player List

Night 5: Superior Differences The Lady Ashette had survived the House War in Luthadel. She had personally killed one of the Skaa traitors! Now she was in some backwards little town to, “learn refinement” or so her father said. He just wanted her out of the way while he built up her reputation to save their House. She knew this and she still hated it. She hated a lot about Tyrian Falls. The ash, the people, the lack of anything to do, her Aunt Rae. Her aunt reminded her of Lord A’Lees except with even less class and her style was closer to that of Lord Urbain. There were no balls or dancing; no pretty gowns or theatrics. In other words, this was the most boring, despicable place on earth for Lady Ashette. When most people say they are “roughing it,” they mean they’re camping in the woods with only a tent and a knife. When Ashette said it, she meant living in Tyrian Falls. Even with the added intrigue of some Spiked trying to sabotage and kill them all and Koloss coming to destroy the town, it couldn’t compare to the machinations of Luthadel. The people here would’ve drowned themselves in the tides of politics of her home town well before they even finished their first sentence and they were supposed to find some secret organization hidden amongst them? Secretly, she was cheering for the Koloss, if for no other reason than to make sure that no one else ever had to even spend a night in this dreadful town! So when the villagers came for her, she wasn’t surprised. She had already figured out who was behind the killings, but she wasn’t about to tell these people that! Most of them were skaa anyways, so she wouldn’t shed a tear for their deaths anyway. She’d take her secrets to her grave and show them how things were done by their betters. She met them at the doors of her Aunt Rae’s house (it wasn’t even large enough to be properly called a manor!), standing calmly and cooly in the afternoon light and gazing off into the distance. The rays of the sun angled directly upon her, making her jewelry sparkle and cast glares of light into the eyes of the waiting crowd. Even in death, she still knew how to dazzle an audience. “It has to be you!” Someone shouted from the crowd. She finally turned her head to face them and smiled down at them. “Is that so? That is where your vaunted reasoning has led you? Of course it has. Where else would it go?” She laughed mockingly while shaking her head. “I’d be surprised if the Koloss will have to attack at all or if they will wander into this cursed graveyard of a town and wonder why ghosts would build such a settlement.” The villagers murmured their disagreement. Some of them didn’t even know what she meant, but it didn’t sound very flattering. “Shall we get this over with? My eyes weep at the strain of having to bear you and all of your filth in my gaze.” They moved towards her with rope to bind her and a noose. Ashette looked at them like a mother about to scold a child and her eyes filled with rage, though almost none of it showed in her features. “You truly are savages, aren’t you? I will not be hung like some skaa. You will fetch the headsman and I will die with the dignity I deserve!” The crowd paused. They hadn’t prepared for her to come willingly. What was a headsman? Baron von Piffertiff whispered to someone near the back of the crowd and they slipped off while the rest of the village stood around awkwardly. When they returned, the Baron had Wyra in tow and she was carrying an axe. The village parted before them until they reached the front. There, they sat down a huge block of tree stump and Wyra stood off to one side. Ashette smiled. “There now, that wasn’t so hard, now was it.” She glanced at the sky for a moment before nodding to herself and she stepped down to the block and knelt. She pulled her hair out of the way before finally resting her head on block. If she had timed it right and she thought she had…. The axe came down and just as it cut through her neck, the final sliver of the setting sun disappeared behind the horizon. Ashette had figured that the imagery would probably be lost on the crowd, but she wasn’t going to go out without a show. _______________________________________________________________________ Day 4 ends! Night 5 will last 24 hours. Ashette was a Regular Villager! Votes (10) Ashette- Baron von Piffertiff, Joe, Maill, Melend, Wilson, Jain, Ashette, Clancy, Wyrm, Reiw (1) Jain- Peng (1) Peng- Herwynbe (1) Wyrm- Reeco (8) No Vote- Dom, Cleo, Senn, Newan, Ament, Damon, Odustren, Larry Updated Player List

To clarify, ALL orders have to be sent by PM, including the kill order of the Spiked. This ruling has been in place since Night 1 and is (barring some form of role shenanigans or game specific rulings that would be posted in the OP or, as Wyrm mentioned, extreme, singular circumstances) how I plan to run all of my games. In LG1, it was allowed once or twice due to certain situations if I recall correctly, but for the most part, all actions have to be sent via PM. All that said, I think you guys might be trying to rely on being able to tell inactives from lurkers. While I don't prefer the use of lurking, it is a legitimate strategy and since the Evil Factions of these games are typically already at a disadvantage in so many other areas, if we start taking away the kinds of strategies they can use, then the games will get predictable, IMO. Just putting it out there for future games and future GMs. We now return to your regularly scheduled paranoia!

Day 4: Shattered Wishes Most people didn’t know it, but Eoladdin’s lamp was just an empty prop by now. He had already gotten his wish out of it and it had been fulfilled years ago, but he kept it around anyways. After all, it was also a convenient place to keep his metals. He hadn’t been much older than twelve when it had happened. The event that had answered his prayers had also shattered his mind, but he couldn’t complain… literally, because he had no recollection of it. He had been a simple plantation skaa, living with his mother and father and toiling in the fields every day under the harsh threat of the whip. It was far from a good life, but it was a life all the same and he and his family hadn’t known any different. They were as content as they knew how to be. But there had been reports of a skaa rebellion nearby and rumors that the skaa of the surrounding areas were helping hide them. The Lord Ruler had sent the Garrison out to put down this rebellion and punish any who helped them. Eoladdin and his family, all of the skaa on his plantation in fact, hadn’t helped the rebels at all. They had never even seen any of the rebels, but that didn’t stop the Garrison from making an example of them. He remembered hearing the guardsmen talking with the lord of his plantation and assuring him that he would be paid for any skaa that were “unable” to work after they were done, but that a display of force would help keep the rest of them in line. They had been marched out of their hovels and the guards selected 10 people. They would be reminders of what happened to any skaa who aided the rebels. His mother and father had been picked. Eoladdin didn’t know what to do as his only family was carted away towards the lord’s manor. Something broke inside of him, as if his spirit had been broken and he turned and ran. He ran past the hovels and through the fields and he just kept running. He ran, trying to flee the thoughts in his head. If he ran fast enough, maybe the truth wouldn’t be able to catch up with him. He neared the edge of the plantation’s property and continued running. Up and down the hills, through the sparse trees. It wasn’t working. His lungs burned and his body ached, but he couldn’t stop seeing his parents being taken away. His foot banged against a rock or something and he went tumbling. He rolled multiple times before coming to a stop. He was battered and bruised and he just could conjure the strength to get up again. He would die right here and that was just fine with him. The Mistwraiths could have him for all he cared. That’s when he saw a glimmer off of the object he had tripped over and though he was exhausted and depressed, eventually curiosity caused him to crawl over to find out what it was. It was a lamp, just like out of the stories. If he rubbed it, a genie would grant him a single wish. It was a children’s story, but he wasn’t more than a child himself and he knew exactly what he would wish for; to be strong enough to save his parents. He dug the lamp the rest of the way out of the ground and rubbed and rubbed, but nothing happened. He was about to throw the lamp away in disgust when he heard something rattling within. He opened the top and found a single vial, with various metal shavings in it. Was it a potion of some form? Maybe it would give him superpowers? Could it be? Was his prayer answered? He downed the vial and waited for something to happen. Nothing. For the third time today, his hopes had been dashed. He curled into a ball and awaited death. It was night before he next awoke. A twig or something snapped off in the distance and frightened him awake. He leaped up from his slumber, his survival instinct kicking in to save him where his will would not. It was a search party of the Garrison, hunting for him. That’s when he noticed how bright the light of the torches were and how quick and strong he felt. There was a comfortable burning in his stomach. He was burning Tin and Pewter. The Genie really had answered his wish! He could go save his parents! He crept away from the search party and rushed back to the plantation as fast as possible, still clutching the lamp, but he was already too late… far too late. The bodies had been mutilated and stacked near the skaa hovels, where they would stay as a reminder and something inside Eoladdin finally snapped. It was just too much and his brain couldn’t handle the stress- so it didn’t. It blocked it all out. He didn’t have parents. He never had a childhood. He had sprung from the lamp, whole as he was now. He walked away from the desecrated bodies with a single word. Sometimes, on nights like the one he was having tonight, he could almost remember something about his life before the lamp. He would spend hours staring off into space, just rubbing the lamp and trying to pull it forth. It looked like it could be a face, a motherly face. He was so wrapped up in his thoughts that he didn’t notice the figure behind him, even when they sliced his throat. _____________________________________________________________________ Even though most people had forgotten about wanting to storm Lord Ostrich’s shop after the explosion, one person didn’t…. Lord Ostrich was downstairs in his actual shop, double checking his wares after the explosion had shaken through the town. He had both praised and cursed that explosion. On the bright side, it had kept the villagers from leveling his shop. On the down side, it had destroyed a few pristine pieces. His shop was a menagerie of color and objects. Stained glass hung from the ceiling, suspended to catch the light and his various sculptures and glasses and bowls and a hundred other glass items sat beneath them. Everything was set just so, so that it would catch the light as it flowed through the open windows during the day. He was about to head back upstairs after finishing cleaning everything up when his world came crashing down around him. Multiple coin smashed through his front windows, but they were aimed far too high to hit him. They did hit the glass pieces dangling from the ceiling though, turning them in guillotine blades as they fell. Ostrich covered his head and tried to run, but every step he took was into the path of a falling pane of glass. More coins shot through the store and more behind them until the store was a hazardous mess of raining glass shards. One sliced open his forearm. Another stabbed through his foot. Lord Ostrich cired out and tried to jump away from the pain in his foot, but the glass shard had stuck him to the floor and it threw him off balance. He toppled backwards, landing on on of his displays. A thousand tiny cuts blossomed in his back as he crashed through the glass and to the floor. Before he could get up, another coin sailed through the window and clipped a sheet of glass hanging right above him. It cracked and swung in the air as if deciding if it would fall or not. Gravity won out in the end and the sheet fell, slicing him in two…. _____________________________________________________________________ The Tineyes were running out of places to display their messages, since the town was in so much chaos, no one took the time to clean up the older ones. That was how Wilson found herself with a letter to carry. She was a messenger after all. If she didn’t get the message to the entire town, then they might have to do something that they truly hated… cleaning up their own messages so they could write more. The message read: For You: Killing with no thought is no good. Lynching just because you do. Every single one of you Running through the streets of blood. Why must you hunger for death? Most just want to take a breath. Not you. All this screaming, yelling, you do. Evil is here! Liar! I see it there! You're evil too, with no doubt. A fool I'd be if I trust you. So worried about the Spiked Is it worth all the death? How much better than they Are you? Three deaths of innocents Were your fault alone Three others were The Spiked in our home. All you bloodthirsty creatures In this town. You can't get enough of it, Can you? The worst part is I'm one of you. - But if you want real clues, here's my hint to you: Wyrm, dowanx, Peng, Macen, Ostrich (But dead men tell no tales), Ash ________________________________________________________________________ Day 4 begins and will last 48 hours! Eoladdin was a Village Mistborn! Lord Ostrich was a Regular Villager! Updated Player List

Okay guys, I'm getting tired of having to repeat myself, so time for a Rule Clarification! You are not allowed, in any shape or form, to copy and paste conversations from one PM to another! This is a violation of the Fair Play Rules, as you are giving outside evidence in an attempt to confirm yourself. Some players have distinct writing styles and/or specific wording that they use that can be used by other people to confirm that the message is legitimate or not or to figure out who sent you said message. It also confirms that you're being truthful about what the person said. You are allowed to paraphrase and summarize in your own words all you like, but no more copying and pasting, okay? Thanks

Night 4: The Enemy’s Gate is Down The village awoke to not just one death, but two and it seemed to drain them. Aralis was a bastion of disbelief that the others had come to rely on. Perhaps their situation wasn’t as bleak as they thought and while Rent was an insane “tax collector,” he was their insane tax collector. He was akin to a cultural landmark, in that the villagers were in on the joke and they always had a good laugh at the reactions of travelers when they encountered Rent for the first time. Coupled with the deaths, it seemed like most of the villagers seemed more concerned with their personal survival. There were rumors that people were preparing to try to flee the town before the Koloss arrived. A lot of these rumors flurried around those with the means to flee, of course. The fact that Baron von Piffertiff hadn’t done anything about his banners, even though he was so proud of them any other time, hinted to the people that he had given up. The Lady Ashette hadn’t been seen all day and the Skaa were just starting to get used to her poking her nose into their business frequently. Senn’s contract had fallen through, so most people suspected that they’d be trying to leave soon, even though going to Fadrex would put them in the path of the Koloss. There were two others that the villagers took note of more than any others though; Herwynbe the Terrisman and Lord Ostrich Maliscei Tekiel, the glass merchant. The Terrisman could pack up in an instant and leave at any time! With as abandoned as most people were feeling, it seemed as if all it would take is just one more person to flee. The glass maker was obviously in a tight situation. After all, his wares wouldn’t last long in a battle, so it was easy for everyone to see how he might decide to run. The rumors built throughout the day and by the time dusk started to descend, the rumors had built into something more; something that actually had fangs to it. Of all the people likely to flee, it seemed most of the village thought Lord Ostrich was the likely culprit, which couldn’t be allowed to stand. After all, they were all in this together, right? One by one, they gathered in front of Lord Ostrich’s shop. They carried pitchforks and torches and cleavers and many other assorted instruments of death. They almost seemed surprised to find themselves here together, but they accepted that their cause was just. They readied themselves and just before they all charged Lord Ostrich’s shop, there was an explosion to the west. They all paused en masse. What was that?!? They all followed the sound of the explosion until they reached the town’s western gate. There, they were greeted by a grisly site. The entire gate had somehow been blown to smithereens, along with sections of the wall surrounding it. Captain Teys laid dead at their feet with a stake of wood from the doors of the gate impaled through him. He wasn’t the only death, as almost the entirety of what was left of the watch were crushed around him. Only a handful of the watch was left and most of them were injured. The villagers couldn’t fool themselves in pretty lies like Aralis claimed any longer. There was no mistaking the reason this gate was destroyed, as this was the direction the Koloss were coming from. It took them the rest of the day to just clean up the rubble enough to be able to give the dead a proper burial and by then they had forgotten about the glass merchant…. ________________________________________________________________________ Night 4 begins now and will last 24 hours. Sorry for the less than stellar write up, but it's the best I could do with the little I had to work with. Hope you enjoy it anyways! No one died! Votes (3) Lord Ostrich- Wilson, Cleo, Clancy (3) Herwynbe- Senn, Lord Ostrich, Reeco (1) Maill- Herwynbe (1) Wyra- Lord Piffertiff (1) Clancy- Peng (14) No Votes- Joe, Maill, Dom, Melend, Eoladdin, Jain, Ashette, Newan, Ament, Damon, Odustren, Riew, Wyra, Larry

Figured I'd do an updated vote list for you guys, since the day is halfway done already. (1) Maill- Wyra .....Huh, well that was easy!

There have been a few games that have been added here that are not part of the GM list yet. I know not everyone who comes up with a game is ready to jump in and try to GM one, so if everyone who would like their game included on the GM list, please PM me and I'll get everyone added!

Day 3: A Disbelief in Taxes Aralis sat on his front porch in his favorite chair as the remnant rays of light from the sun slowly gave way to the coming night. He didn’t fear the mists anymore. When you lived as long as he had, they were more like a constant companion than a force to be afraid of. Besides, he had never believe in those fanciful stories people told about Mistwraiths. Just a lot of mumbo jumbo if you asked him and so he liked to sit out here on his porch and greet the mists as they seemed to pour out of the ground. He sat there rocking in silent contentment for awhile, just feeling the cool caress of the mists after the heat of the day. Those youngins might fret about riches or relationships, but Aralis knew that it was the simple things in life that really mattered. He didn’t hear the figure approach from behind him, but he felt him. “The Koloss are coming,” said the voice. Aralis grunted. “You kids and your stories. There’s no such thing as Koloss. Never was, never will be. Go back to bed and let an old man rest in peace.” There was a pause, as if the person behind him didn’t know what to say or think. Eventually, a reply came. “There are too such a thing as Koloss.” “Nope.” “Yeah-huh, and they really are marching on your little town!” Aralis snorted. “And next you’re going to tell me that you’re one of those Spiked people that everyone has been going on about and that you’re here to ‘kill’ me, right?” Another pause. “...yes?” “Bah, I don’t have time for your childish games. Go try to fool someone else and leave me be.” “But, but I really am! And we really are! Who do you think burned down the barracks?” “Cooking fire accident.” “.....And the death of the Alchemist?” “Mistakes happen when working with volatile ingredients.” “With an axe in his head?!?” “Very volatile ingredients.” “Okay then, what about Karnad, huh? We pushed him off the wall!” “Slipped when he was trying to escape this town because he foolishly believed in fairytales.” An exasperated sigh came from behind Aralis and then a sword appeared through his chest. It was dripping blood, but Aralis felt no pain. “Oh, yes, very lifelike,” Aralis said. “What magician’s shop did you pick up this little trick?” The figure behind him cried out in anger and disbelief and the sword disappeared. Aralis didn’t see it again, as it chopped off his head this time…. ______________________________________________________________________ Rent surveyed the town square, admiring his handiwork. He thought he’d even outsmarted himself this time! The ladder had been pulled up out of the pit and there was a sign that hung from it that said, “15 boxings tu use.” He had evenly distributed a fine layering of ash to the entire square to hide his trap and it had only taken him most of the night! By morning, he’d be ready to start really collecting taxes on those that passed through his territory! He felt pretty proud of himself and was about to go spend some of the taxes he’d collected off of that Herwynbe fellow (at least one person in this town recognized his authority!) when he noticed something amiss. There was a small, shiny object halfway across the square. Lord Rulah! He thought. Can’t have anything outta place! Might tip someone off. As he approached the object, he figured out what it was and couldn’t believe his good luck. Free Taxes! He thought with a grin and there was a spring in his step as he neared the dropped coin. As he reached down to pick it up, the coin slid a few meters to the left. Rent jumped as if he’d been goosed, but continued to stare at the coin. Coins weren’t supposed to move like that, were they? He tried again and again, the coin slid along the same path. Ain’t no way some rusting coin is gettin the better of me! He leaped at the coin, but again, it just drifted further from him. As he brushed himself off, he tried to psych the coin out by going around it and approaching it from the other direction. It shot off between his legs. “Blasted coin! Come ere already!” He yelled as he started to chase the coin down. He was so focused on the coin, that he didn’t realize where he had stepped until he heard creaking of lightweight timber and felt the ground start to give away from him. He didn’t even have time to shout before he was plunged into darkness. He rubbed his head from where he had knocked it in the fall into his own trap. He stood and turned full circle, looking for a way out of the hole, but he didn’t find one. He grinned. Yep, this will do nicely once I get out of here! You’ve done it this time, Rent! Soon everyone will be paying you what yer rightfully due! It seemed that someone couldn’t wait though. A shower of coins sped through the night and into Rent’s trap with a little/lot more force than Rent would’ve liked since they pierced right through him. ______________________________________________________________________ With Reeco too exhausted to clean up the writings left by the errant artists, they went looking for a new location. They found one. Baron Von Piffertiff liked having banners on the front of his mansion that had his family’s seal on them, one hanging on each side of the entrance. When the villagers woke up, they found them both covered in writing instead. The one on the right read: Findthetruths findtheblood findthefire findthewood findthewater findtheair findthestone findthedeath findthesecretbut thereisneveranothersecretnevereverever. And the one on the left read: Citizens of Tyrian Falls: Don't forget to play fair with these messages first. Remember that your loyalty is to the town. Don't give up! 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There are 48 hours left in the day! Good Luck! Rent was a Village Tineye! Aralis was a Village Seeker! Updated Player List

Yours was a mistake. I didn't see your edit until afterwards (if that would've changed the write up, I would've flipped!) and it's already been fixed, but that is how emotional allomancy will show up.

Night 3: Revenge is a Dish Best Served With Fists! The day had been long and arduous. The sun seemed to beat down even hotter than normal and the ashmount wasn’t providing a lot of ash for cover. The heat acted like a leech on the villagers and they moved about at a sluggish pace. All except one of them; Wyra. She still seemed to be going strong; running errands for Edgar, almost as if she were flaunting the fact that she was in much better shape than the rest of the villagers. Most of the villagers had decided to take the day off and were lounging in Satrams’, now Reeco’s tavern and they’d watch her as she would jog past them through the windows. “I don’t know how she does it,” said the Baron with a shake of his head. “Just watching her is making me tired!” Not that the Baron had much time for staring out the window. The rest of the villagers were in the tavern and they were discussing their poor luck recently and were looking for someone to blame… Many kept turning to Eoladdin. Surely their problems weren’t caused by normal, intelligent folks. This must be the work of a mad man. In his defense, Eoladdin spent a large portion of his time sitting in the corner, rubbing that lamp of his and wishing for a way out. They had all but decided to throw him to the Koloss when they arrived when Wyra jogged past the windows again on another errand. “You’d have to be mad to be running around in this heat!” Ashette exclaimed as she did her best to fan herself. “You wouldn’t catch me out there! Oh what I’d give to be back in Luthadel! The iced wine and the balls and the... “ The rest of the crowd stopped listening. It was true; you would have to be insane to be running around out there. But she wasn’t out there because she wanted to be, she was out there on the orders of Edgar…. The entirety of the village seemed to come to this conclusion together, their anger at Eoladdin forgotten somehow. Now Edgar on the other hand, he sounded like a pretty crafty mastermind. It took some prodding to get them to actually go outside and even more to approach the furnace that was the blacksmith’s armory, but eventually they did make it. Edgar was pounding away, shaping what looked to be the head of an axe, though he didn’t look happy about it. Perhaps he had bad memories about axes? The mob, sweating in the afternoon heat, wasted no time. They just wanted to get back to the shade. Best to put a stop to these killings and sabotages quickly. They grabbed Edgar from behind and dragged him out of his armory. Edgar fought back, but there were more than enough to them to overpower him. They pummelled and kicked him to the ground. A few of the villagers ran back into his shop and grabbed some knives and swords he had made for the villages defense. As they drew in for the coup de grâce, a single voice at the edge of the crowd called out: “Just what in the name of the Lord Ruler do you people think you’re doing?!?” They turned to find a very strong and very angery Wyra. She had her hands balled up into fists at her side, her eyes were narrowed to slits and she was so tensed up that she made rock seem fluid. Before they could even fathom a reply, she lashed out at those that had the unfortunate luck to be standing anywhere near her. She was a flurry of punches and kicks and wherever she went, she left a trail of bruised bodies and egos behind her. As she neared the center of the mob, the few that had taken weapons tried them, but though they sliced her, she just kept going. She was like a force of nature, impossible to stop. Eventually the villagers’ nerve broke and they scattered, leaving a horribly beaten up Edgar and a blood-dripping Wyra in peace. She fell to her knees in front of the body of her broken master. She tried to see if there was anything she could do for him, but she was no doctor. She knew how to cause such wounds, not heal them. Amazingly, Edgar was still alive! Maybe not for long, but alive! “You weren’t my first choice,” he gasped, “but you were probably my best choice. I graduate you. You’re no longer an apprentice.” “Don’t make me regret it,” He said with a crooked smile before finally fading. Wyra stayed like that, kneeling before his body until almost dusk. Then she lifted Edgar’s body and took them back into the armory. She would have to bury him tomorrow, but right now, she needed more pewter. _____________________________________________________________________ Night 3 Begins! Since this write up took a little bit longer and I want to keep as close to schedule as possible, there will be 23 hours in this night! Wyra is a Thug! Votes (3) Wyra- Wilson, Ashette, Maill (2) Eoladdin- Peng, Wyra (2) Peng- Jain, Lord Ostrich (2) Lord Ostrich- Eoladdin, Herwynbe (1) Ament- Melend (1) Larry- Senn (1) Maill- Rent (1) Jain- Clancy (11) No Votes- Joe, Dom, Cleo, Newan, Ament, Damon, Odustren, Riew, Larry, Reeco, Aralis, Baron Von Piffertiff Updated Player List

The day is over, but with so much going on at the last minute, I'm still working on the write up! I'll have it up as soon as possible, but don't expect anything too amazing this time unfortunately!

First up, you guys have just over 2 hours until the end of the day! Secondly, I was going through and recording votes and thought you all might like a vote count, so here you go! (4) Eoladdin- Baron von Piffertiff, Peng, Aralis, Wyra (2) Lord Ostrich- Eoladdin, Reeco (2) Wyra- Wilson, Ashette (2) Peng- Jain, Lord Ostrich (1) Ashette- Maill (1) Ament- Melend (1) Larry- Senn (1) Maill- Rent (1) Jain- Clancy (10)No Votes- Joe, Dom, Cleo, Newan, Herwynbe, Ament, Damon, Odustren, Riew, Larry Enjoy!

A bit of both? First thing I do is decide which and how many of the roles I plan to use for the game. I decide on which roles, if any, I think would make for a challenging Spiked team. After I decided on which and how many of the roles I think will make for a compelling game, I randomly distribute them to the player list. Then I pick out of that distribution who the Spike team is. This way, there can't be any favoritism in my distribution, but I can also make sure that neither side is overpowered.

Day 2: The Final Escape Karnad crept as silently as he could along what amounted for a wall bordering the town of Tyrian Falls. He had all but resigned himself to being forced into the watch, but after seeing how they all turned on Satrams like that (one of their own even!), he wasn’t about to let himself be buried in this insane town. He’d rather take his chances with getting shot for desertion than be strung up as Satrams had been. Thus he was out in the middle of the night, sneaking through the mists and trying to find some place to scale the wall. The wall itself wasn’t that high; 3-4 meters high at best. It was more of a symbol of a deterrent than an actual one. If he could get to the top, he’d be able to drop down, likely, without breaking anything. There weren’t enough of the watch left to patrol even half of it, so if he could find a foothold or two, he could be up and out before anyone saw him. While he did relish the idea of spending the night out in the countryside, with the mists as his only companion, he’d done it before. Heck, he’d done it enough times while running packages for the nobility that he had almost convinced himself that the tales of mistwraiths must surely be false. Besides, it beat staying in a town that he felt was overrunning with lunatics! As he crept along, he caught the faint scent of burnt timber in the air. He must’ve been nearing the barracks. He sighed and was about to turn back and try the other direction when he caught sight of something in the mists. His hopes of escape rose with every inch he moved forward. The barracks had been almost right up against the wall and due to the paranoia sweeping the town, as thorough cleaning had yet to be done. Part of the back wall had collapsed outwards and had made a crude ramp leading almost right up to the top of the wall. Karnad almost let out a cry of joy before he realized that would likely bring any of the remaining watch down on him. He could celebrate after he was free. The climb wasn’t too arduous. The remaining timber was delicate though and threatened to break if he stepped wrong, but he eventually made it to the top. He stood there for a moment, revelling in the taste of victory. “Now which way to go,” he whispered to himself. East was out of the question. The Koloss were coming from there. While he knew his way around his typical routes, he couldn’t be sure if there were any towns to the north or south of here. That only left west; toward Luthadel. He didn’t like the idea of passing up one crazy town of skaa hellbent on killing everyone for another one and he highly doubted that Prelan Tevidian was likely still capable of paying him. The only thing he had left was his reputation. Maybe Urteau? Surely the chaos in Luthadel hadn’t infected there yet and he had run a messages for Lord Venture before. Maybe he could make a new start there? “Down,” said a voice directly behind him. Before Karnad could realize that the stranger was replying to his whispered question, Karnad felt hands shove him forward and he was tumbling through the air. A fall from this height shouldn’t have killed him, but there were a lot of things that Karnad felt shouldn’t have happened. The last one that came to his mind before he hit the ground was that he shouldn’t have ever stopped in this crazy, little town. ___________________________________________________________ Recco found himself quite busy after Satrams’ death. Unbeknownst to him, the village still seemed to expect the tavern to stay open even after they had killed its proprietor! That’s how he found himself not only running his little pizza shop, but also fumbling his way through barkeeping as well. By the time everyone had finally left for the night, Recco was exhausted. By the time he got home, he didn’t even have the energy to clean up before falling onto his bed and promptly falling asleep. When he awoke the next day, he still didn’t know what he was going to do about the whole tavern situation, but he knew that if he didn’t open up soon, the villagers were just as likely to break in and they might damage his beloved pizza equipment as well! When he finally entered the bar, he realized that he was too late. someone, or a handful of someones, had already broken in! Why they only decided to draw all over the tables was anyone’s guess, but that seemed to be the only damage done. He’d have to figure out what to do about the messages later. He could feel it in the ache of his already weary bones. The village was waking up for the day…. The first message read: There’s never another secret! The second message read: Five years here, five before in Luthadel. Four more, with you, I am willing to share. The one who is not Ehe, my trust has lost for now, I'll tell. Eight years, I've suffered, Eight more I'll dare, The one with no Ene isn't quite absurd. If one or four fiends We are able to scare. Endurance (with an L) isn't as suspicious as it seems. Four years more will I stay here, Eight, maybe, if we tidy this affair. The writer of Rao is pure, I hear. Now, get to work scourging the town. Four at last, my poem ends, but beware. This is Ien following my Sao. Ido me if I am wrong, my Seo is to this town. _______________________________________________________________________________ Day 2 begins now and will end 48 hours from now! Enjoy! Karnad turned out to be a Regular Villager! Updated Player List Happy Hunting!

Quite comfortable, actually, but that's probably because I'm used to it. I rent a summer house down there anyways. Me and 'the Beebz' are tight, so he cuts me a deal. As long as I can cause enough chaos and despair in each game I run, I get a 20% discount! But I'll stop being a distraction now and let you guys continue. Come on, guys! I need that discount!