Metacognition

It seems like everyone has a different jumping off point. In this thread already, I've heard every one of his Cosmere books that isn't a sequel! I'm thinking it doesn't matter where you start. Sanderson's writing is so good, it just doesn't matter. You're going to get drawn in one way or another.

Day 4 (And a One, and a Two, and a One, Two, Three.…) Tonight wasn’t a time for hiding. Just before the last red rays of the sun faded in the sky, smoke was seen on the horizon. Normally that wouldn’t be a worry, but it was coming from the south. The same direction the Koloss marched inevitably towards them from. Things were looking desperate and the town had yet to find a single Spiked. Porridge had tried to do some repairs to the wall anyways, but as always, the next morning found all the hard work torn down. They needed a victory and fast or they wouldn’t have enough time left to prepare! At least that was Kukri’s thoughts as he moved through the night. He wasn’t trying to hide. In fact, he almost seemed to be taunting the Spiked into attacking him. His cloak was thrown back and his knives were still tucked in their sheaths. It felt good to not have to hide anymore. After the last few times, he decided he just didn’t care who saw him anymore. Kukri wasn’t out in the mists tonight just for the fun of it. He burned steel and a dozen blue lines appeared. He dropped a coin and shot off into the dark. No, he had somewhere he needed to be and someone to finally kill... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Porridge liked to keep to himself. It’s not that he didn’t like people, he did. It was just that most people didn’t seem to remember him even when he was there. It made friendships incredibly difficult to maintain. That didn’t mean he didn’t try. So what if they couldn’t remember his real name; he still loved this little town and his place within it. That’s why he kept on repairing the walls, even though his work kept on getting torn down. Well, he wasn’t going to let it happen again tonight! After seeing the smoke in the distance, he was determined to leave this village with a fighting chance. Tonight he was walking back and forth between the sections he repaired. He’d gotten a spear from Edgar’s stash of weapons that surprisingly wasn’t damaged and even though he had no idea how to use it, he hoped that the sight of him would scare off any Spiked that tried to undo his work. So far, it seemed to be working. He’d just finished making another round and everything was still intact. He was just about to turn around and start back when he felt some dust fall on his head. Then he heard it. It was the sound of brick scraping on brick and mortar crumbling. He looked up, trying to pierce the mists, but he couldn’t make anything out. Suddenly, out of the gloom, a brick plummeted to the ground, missing him by inches. Someone was trying to bring down his newly repaired section right on top of him! Panicked, he started to run out of the way. A coin shot from the top of the wall and landed right in front of him, pulling him to a stop. The point was obvious. If he tried to flee this way, he’d be killed. Porridge spun and ran the other way, only to get the same result. More bricks fell around him, one clipping his shoulder. Porridge cried out in pain, barely keeping his feet. His metal wouldn’t be of any use here. If he didn’t get out of here, it wouldn’t matter if he died by coin or falling debris. Unfortunately, his moment of hesitance was all that was needed. The wall had reached past its tipping point and now it was all coming down. Porridge cried out and made one last dash for safety, but it was too late. Pordin was buried under his own work and now no one would know his real name. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Aether was sitting at his desk, scribbling away as always. The candle stub he had for light wasn’t much, but he was too distracted to think about finding an actual lantern. He was busy working on a new list for tomorrow; one that would convince everyone of his innocence and get them focused on someone else. He was just about finished when a shadow fell over his desk. “You know, I always knew your lists were lies” Aether turned and cocked his head to the side. “My lists never lie. They tell exactly what they’re supposed to. They always point towards those that are our enemies. Just because that’s you and not us doesn’t mean they’re lies.” Kukri shook his head in disgust. “How long did it take you to figure me out?” Aether asked. “Far longer than I would have liked.” Aether smiled. “Ah yes, you’ve got quite a bit of innocent blood on your hands. I want to thank you for that. You made our job so much easier. In fact, one could say that we couldn’t have done it without you.’ ‘Yes, you deserve to be commended for your assistance to our cause. Perhaps you’d like to join us? I have a list here somewhere that explains all the benefits in it for you, but the number one point on it is that you get to live.” Kukri snorted, pulling out his favorite dagger. “I don’t think you’re in any position to make any threats and I’m here to make sure that you don’t make anymore at all.” Kukri held the dagger in an open grip. He loved the way it gleamed in the light. He burn steel and picked out the line attached to his dagger. Aether didn’t move. He actually seemed to be smiling even more. “Have it your way. But don’t say I didn’t warn you. In the end, we all go back to Ruin.” Kukri flared his steel, sending the dagger directly into Aether’s chest. He sighed in relief when Aether slumped forward dead. He hadn’t killed anyone Spiked before and he had worried that it wouldn’t be that easy. He went to step forward to retrieve his dagger when he felt a pulling sensation across his throat. “Odd,” he thought. “Since when did it get so hard to breathe?” He looked down and his shirt was already soaked with blood. “What the h-” he thought before collapsing forward. The new figure cleaned off the dagger it had used to slit Kukri’s throat and moved over to Aether’s body. The newcomer gently closed Aether’s eyes. “Don’t worry brother,” the newcomer whispered. “They’ll all be joining you soon.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Phew! Figuring out how to kill off three people took a lot longer than expected! Day 4 begins! The Day will be 35 hours long to put us roughly back on track (this write up is technically early from when the night was suppose to end). Porridge was the VILLAGE RIOTER! Kukri was the VILLAGE COINSHOT! Aether was the SPIKED SMOKER! Ready? Fight! Updated Player List

What? Oh, this is still going on? Sorry, I think we might have to put the game on hold for a bit. I have some reading to do. Guess you guys don't get to know what happens next! (I just got all the orders, but I need to eat first. You guys will have your write up within a few hours!)

Night 4 (Closing Time) Wilson was the first to find Quinn’s body, as such, she was the first to bring the news and the note to the inn, which had become the go to meeting place. With as bad as things seemed to be going, it seemed everyone wanted to have the drinks nearby. “Well, we’re screwed,” said Gambles. “They have a Mistborn on their side! Those are odds I’d never bet against!” Dyring kept the drinks flowing, limping around and looking a bit pale. He may have been injured, but that wasn’t going to stop him from making sure everyone knew his opinion. “You’re a fool and you’re a fool and you’re a fool! And you,” he said, point to Beetle. “You are still a bloody little Spiked bugger! I’ve told you all time and again, let’s get the bloody urchin!” Beetle huddled back into the crowd that had grown around him and the whispers began. Rather than arguing all out, everyone gathered into groups, keeping their secrets to themselves. Some were talking about Dyring’s injuries. “Quinn wasn’t that big of a guy, but with him being a Lurcher as well, I’ll bet that’s why Dyring is so beat up.” “I can’t believe he’s still up and moving! Even as a Thug, he shouldn’t be alive! Maybe it’s because he’s Spiked!” Dyring sat at the bar, drinking down a concoction that was 3 parts alcohol and 100 parts pewter and glaring at them all. Finally, Maill looked up from their table. “Uh, Dyring? I know you’ll probably hate this, but… Are you Spiked?” Dyring stared, incredulous at the accusation. Maill cowered down, trying to make himself look as small as possible as Dyring started to turn red. “That’s it! Everybody out! I far as I’m concerned, you can all go straight to the Inquisitors for all I care! I’m done with you all. You can come back later to collect your body, but for now, I don’t want to see any one of you!” After everybody shuffled out, some faster than others, they stood around outside, unsure what they were supposed to do. “I know what will cheer everyone up,” cried Aether. “All we need is a li-.” A knife thumped into the wall next to him. Hanging from it was a list. “Already gotcha covered, mate.” Kukri stood off to the side sharpening his other knife. Aether looked crestfallen. Inside, Dyring had open a few special vintages he’d saved for a special occasion. He was hoping to use them for something a little less dour, but that wasn’t the way of his life. He sighed, dumping out the glass he had his pewter mixture stored in and filled it with a shot of his favorite. He looked around his inn lovingly. He would miss it. His inn brought him such comfort and peace. He raised his glass to the room. “Thanks for all the good times, friend.” Then he took his drink and stopped burning pewter. Without it, his weakened body just gave out and he slumped against the bar. A couple hours later, the villagers forced Porridge to check on Dyring. He peeked carefully around the door and when he came back unharmed, the rest of the village followed him in. They found Dyring’s body and began searching it for any bits of metal. When they took off the bandages around his legs, Wilson called out, “look! A spike! We were right!” Kukri lightly smacked her upside her head. “It’s just a splinter of wood. He probably got it while crawling across the floor.” With their hopes dashed, they realized that they had been wrong again, but worst of all, once Dyring’s stockpile of liquor ran out, there’d be no one to buy any more! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Night 4 begins! Send in your night orders! Considering that I’m just arriving at college around the time that we typically quit each turn, that doesn’t give me any time to work on the write ups, so we’ll try going 36 hours from now. Remember everyone, NO MORE PMs CAN BE SENT! Dyring turned out to be the VILLAGER THUG! Player Votes Dyring - 9 (Maill, Aether, Clancy, Gamma, Kurkistan, Bartbug, Wilson, Mat, Porridge) Aether - 0 (Dyring) Updated Player List

No. Notice the last time, I didn't actually switch Clancy's vote, even though Durnam switched his. I'll make a few exceptions, but for the most part, I won't allow such conditional voting. That would defeat the purpose of voting and make two roles basically useless. Heh. Heh, Heh. Ha. Haha! HAHAHA! AH-HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!

I'm sure someone will point this out, but the Coinshot is a village only role. Giving the Spiked the ability to kill 2 players a night is not something I'd do (well, unless the Mistborn gets Coinshot, but that's what makes the Mistborn so deadly!).

This is an interesting idea to me. Is it said anywhere that Worldhopping has to be tied to the particular magic system of their world? Perhaps the ability comes from something else and by focusing on the various magic systems, we're missing something. I do like the idea of Demoux kind of tagging along for the ride via his love interest. Not every character needs to have special abilities to be special. Dockson, Teft, Siri, and many others; they're all still compelling without needing magic to make them that way. Why should we think that similar type characters wouldn't be within the 17th?

Day 3 (Front Page Headlines) The rest of the town had gone back to their homes. Perhaps it was their guilt that drove them away from the inn. More than likely though, it was the way Dyring glared at them. He had told them, time and time again, that the filthy little urchin was trouble. Everyone else chalked it up to him being angry about the stolen coin and beers and the destroyed sheets he kept on having to replace, but he knew better. He hadn’t always been an innkeeper and he knew that urchin’s type from before. “Bloody fools,” he muttered to himself as he wiped down the tables. He was just about finished for the night when the door to the inn opened. Dyring looked up at the figure in the doorway, but he was covered in a cloak from head to toe. “Sorry friend, everyone’s gone home for the night and I’m finishing up myself,” said Dyring. “You’ll have to find somewhere else to pass the time.” The stranger didn’t speak. He just held up his hand and opened it. Inside there were a few metal spiked balls. Dyring recognized them. Caltrops. Typically they were used to stop charging armies, but they could easily chew through a person as well, especially if used by an allomancer. “Oh bloody he-” he cursed as the caltrops shot out of the stranger’s hand, traveling towards him. He dived under the table, feeling spiked murder pass just above his head. Grabbing the table in one hand, he threw it towards the stranger with an ease that no singular man could match. “You bloody, bloody fool!” He shouted. “You’re not supposed to come after me!” The stranger ducked and came up in a roll. While still crouched, he pulled out another handful of caltrops and fired them off. This time, Dyring wasn’t quick enough and they caught him in the shins. Crying out in pain, he dropped to the ground. The stranger slowly approached and drew a knife. He knelt down beside Dyring and quickly and efficiently cut open the jugular vein on his neck. His work done, the stranger left him to bleed out. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go,” Dyring thought. “They’re doing it all wrong! They need me! They need me to kick some sense into them!” Dyring slowly, weakly reached up and placed his hand over the wound. Then, flaring his metal, he crawled back behind the counter and found his small medic kit. A couple of hours later, after a few stiff drinks, a couple of bandages and a ton of pewter, Dyring started cleaning up the mess. After all, drinks still needed to be served. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Quinn had been in town long enough to make it his own. He’d taken on the odd job here or there as well as being the town crier, just for the opportunities they presented him with. Things like sweeping chimneys wasn’t any fun, but it got him on their roofs to anchor little bits of metal where ever he needed them. Now he had an entire network of them scattered throughout the town and he could fly over the rooftops with ease. Typically, the feeling of soaring through the air made him feel better. When he wasn’t drinking away at Dyring’s inn at night, he’d be up here, looking down on the town. Tonight, it wasn’t working though. He kept on seeing something out of the corner of his eye. It was vaguely human shaped and it had been following him through the mists for the last few days. He had a sneaky suspicion that he knew exactly what it was too. At first, he had tried running from it. He’d dart away in the opposite direction each time, pulling harder and harder; barrelling through the air at insane speeds. But now, he was tired of running. He’d made his peace and he’d made amends. Well, as much as he felt he could at least. So when he caught another glimpse of it out of the corner of his eye again, he pulled himself to a sudden stop. By pulling on three separate sources of metal he’d placed, he stopped right in the middle of the street, hanging there suspended in midair. There, standing at the edge of the rooftop on his right was Grayv. The mists blew through him, but there was no mistaking that telltale twitch and the missing hand. “I said I was sorry,” whispered Quinn. “I’ve tried to do my best since then. I even bought you a bottle of your favorite stuff and left it by your grave. Well, most of it. It really is good and you probably weren’t going to really drink it, so I took some of it, but the thing is, I really have tried.” The speech didn’t affect the ghost in any foreseeable way. “I just want you to forgive me,” Quinn said, a single tear rolling off his cheek. “I have enough spectres of my own. Please don’t you become one too.” Suddenly, all three of his metal bars gave away at the same time. Quinn wailed out in surprise, searching for any of his other sources as he plummeted to the street below. There were none to be found. Someone had removed them all and left these weakened. Looking below him, he saw a figure standing below him with a sharpened spike in hand. The death was instantaneous. The figure pulled out a single sheet of paper and pinned it to Quinn’s body. The town crier had one more story to tell. The note read: “There is something rotten on the site of Seventeenth. There is a false witness breathing lies to its brothers. Discord has been sown. Mornië alantië. A town divided against itself cannot survive. In the battle for Tyrian Falls, Ruin and its kin will prevail. When the Koloss arrive like a flood, there shall be no Survivor to protect you against them! I have been called many things, but kind is seldom one of them. Some might call me Betrayal. But for there to be betrayal, there would have to have been trust first. No, my name is Legion, for I am many. But I am also so much more. I am blunt in my methods, but in the moment when I finally understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him and the ruin his death brings upon the world.. I am a thinker, for only true intelligence and foresight can mastermind such magnificent chaos and dissent. And most of all, I have become grumpy, for the Koloss are late. In the end, I can promise you nothing but blood, metal, sweat, and death.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Day 3 Begins! This time, because I’m posting this a bit early, you’ll have 37 hours to the day round. Dyring turned out to be a THUG (I’m not giving his allegiance until his final death). Quinn turned out to be the VILLAGE LURCHER. Let the Chaos begin! Updated Player List

I may be bad with numbers, but I'm not THAT bad with numbers! I did tell you guys that an observant person would be able to tell when the Soother or Rioter uses their powers. Now, you tell me, do you think I miscounted?

Also, I forgot to add this: For this Night/Day cycle, PMs are allowed! I repeat, just for this Night/Day cycle, PMs are allowed!

Night 3 (Forging Ahead) “Aha!” cried Durnam, holding up a hand with index finger raised. “I believe I have solved all our problems, ladies and gentlemen! I have come up with the perfect plan to filter out those of us who are traitors!” “Uh, Durnam,” said Aether. “Whose hand is that?” “Oh this? This is Jason’s. He won’t be needing it anymore. He’s dead, unfortunately. Now! Onto getting those that killed him!” Durnam had a tendency to talk with his hands and was waving Jason’s severed arm around as he detailed out his plan. “...And that is why we should kill Beetle,” he finished, pointing with the arm at Beetle. Beetle just so happened to be filching Quiver’s drink at the time and was caught by everyone’s stares, like a deer in the headlights. Dyring’s eyes lit up and he grabbed a club he had stashed behind the bar. “But, but I’m the Seeker!” Beetle yelled. He put on his best innocent kid face and turned towards the room. “I’m not a threat. I’m just a little, scared kid. Please don’t kill me. Besides, the blacksmith is far more likely to be Spiked than me!” As Beetle pleaded and Durnam argued, Aether got out his paper and pens. “Lists! We need lists to solve this dilemma! Lists fix everything.” The entire Inn seemed to turn into a free for all, with accusations flying about quicker than they could leave their mouths. Durnam curled Jason’s hand into a fist and started shaking it at people. As the day wore on, it seemed that Beetle’s puppy-dog eyes were starting to win over the crowd. Durnam threw up his hands in disgust and turned to leave. “You’ll be sorry! You should’ve listened to me when we had the chance!” With tempers still high, it didn’t take the villagers to commune on Edgar’s forge. The burly blacksmith was inside working on some new swords for the defense of the village. Everyone rushed him, as they figured they would need everyone to keep him from escaping, but he didn’t run. They forced him to his knees and still he didn’t struggle. Someone grabbed the sword, still red hot from the furnace and stabbed him right in the chest. All Edgar did was tilt his head to the side, as if he heard something the others couldn’t hear and then he slumped over. Durnam refused to check over the body. “You did this,” he said petulantly. “I’ll have no part in your murder.” So they did the best they could, searching Edgar’s body over and over again. Gambles checked the shop and found a bag of bronze flakings in vials hidden in a chest in Edgar’s bedroom. They spent all day, searching and poking and prodding, but there didn’t seem to be a single piece of metal on him. By the time the sun set, it was a despondent group that made its way back to the Inn. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Edgar, the Blacksmith is dead! He turned out to be the VILLAGE SEEKER. Night 3 begins! Send in your night orders! The night ends either 36 hours from now or whenever I get all of the night orders. EDIT: Forgot to add the player votes. Doh! Edgar - 7 (Maill, Gambles, Kukri, Beetle, Wilson, Darnam, Mat) Beetle - 4 (Edgar, Aether, Clancy, Dyring, Quiver) Updated Player List Sorry guys, I didn't have as much time to work on this one as I did some of the others. And up until the very end, even I had no idea which way the vote was going to swing, so I couldn't plan out a lot ahead of time. My most sincere apologies to Edgedancer. I wish I could've done your death a little more justice.

Time is up! In fact, I let it go a little too long. I'm working on the write up right now and it'll be up in a bit.

It's a game, Durnam; breathe. Part of the game is people disagreeing, it's going to happen. I think you're taking it a bit personally now. I suggest taking a step back for now. As you've said, you've made your arguments and you've made up your mind. Unless you plan to change it, I think you've made your case. Allow the day to prove you right or wrong. And don't forget to breathe.

I leave you all alone for one day while I'm at school and look what happens. Shame on all of you bloodthirsty murderers! Do try to remember that this is meant to be fun, guys. I know it's not always easy, but try not to take things too personally. Think about it like this; you wouldn't shun someone for life because they picked the wrong superhero between Batman or Ironman (the right answer is Ironman, by the way), so no one is going to hold it against you for your arguments here. That said, I'm going to have to come up with an amazing write up for the sheer amount of craziness of this Day cycle! There! Are you happy now? You've put even more pressure on me to make things as awesome as possible! Maill- I'll check in with Porridge, but I can't make him come in and vote, of course. You guys still have ~9 hours left, so he might show up on his own. Wilson- That's part of the fun! That's also why there are so many different roles out there to play with. Most of them are designed to help the Villagers. Edit: Me not add well. Me no gooder wif speling ether.

For that night/day cycle, yes.

Mailliw- you want me to tell whomever was targeted who the Coinshot is or just that they were targeted by the Lurcher? Either way, I don't think that would work out very well. What if the Lurker picked randomly and accidentally protected a Spiked player? What if it wasn't the Lurcher and it was the Mistborn with the Lurcher ability for the night? What if it was the Mistborn with the Coinshot ability for the night? There's too many possible factors that could be in play. If I gave out any more information, I'd be giving either the Villagers or the Spiked an unfair advantage.

If Spiked try to kill someone the Lurcher has targeted, the target is saved. Effectively, you could take away the Spiked's ability to kill at night, but that would be some extremely lucky guesses to do so with any regularity!

The Mistborn has access to all the roles. So yes, the Mistborn could very well get Village roles even if they were Spiked. It's part of the reason the Mistborn is such a dangerous role. If the Mistborn gets Coinshot, either the Town or the Spiked could technically kill two people at night and crazy things like that. It's meant to be a game changer. And Kurkistan, all my posts, other than the write ups, are in blue. That way people can keep me separate from the game.

Only if the Coinshot wants to tell you. If there isn't a death, I'm not revealing names, roles, or allegiance. In a way, that's a good thing for you guys. Then the Spiked don't know who is whom and who was targeted either and at least the Coinshot knows who he targeted. What they make of said information is another story.

Day 2 (Beggars can’t be Choosers) Jason considered himself a very practical man. When one has to live on the streets, one learns how to separate things into needs and desires. That’s why, while everyone else talked and blustered, he would sit quietly and watch. He knew what the towns needs were. They needed to find those who were sabotaging their ability to defend against the Koloss. After the day though, he realized that all they really desired was revenge. The image of the crowd, calling for blood, followed him as he made his way through the alleyways towards his prefered sleeping spot. It wasn’t much, just another section of an alley, but the wall was connected to Edgar’s forge and there was a slight overhang to help keep off the rain. “Fools, the lot of them,” he snorted. “They need to stop letting their nerves get the better of them or else we’re all doomed.” Maybe next time, he’d have to speak up. He didn’t like being the center of attention, but if the rest of them couldn’t be reasonable, then he’d have to do it. He had just about reached his spot when he heard a sound that no beggar would mistake; the sound of a ringing coin. It was coming from just around the next corner. He peeked around the edge to see someone in a hooded cloak, flipping a single coin into the air and catching it. It was difficult to tell in the mists, but it looked like the cloaked figure was watching and waiting for something. Could this be one of the traitors, out to butcher someone else? Surprisingly, Jason found himself compelled to stay and see what was happening. It didn’t take long before he saw another figure walking down the street. The mists were a little lighter tonight, but even so, Jason couldn’t make out who it was. The newcomer was apparently oblivious to the trap he was about to walk into. Just before Jason could call out in warning, the coin the hooded stranger was flipping stopped in mid flip and shot out of the alley at a blinding speed. “And they claim another one of us,” Jason thought, as the coin whipped through the mist towards its target. At the very last moment, the newcomer seemed to be pushed to the side by unseen hands and the coin whizzed past him. It was too far away to tell, but Jason could almost sense the sudden panic in their stance. The stranger cursed and pulled out a few more coins, throwing them out in front of him and then pushing on them. Then newcomer was pushed again, barely dodging the coins before starting to run. The stranger rushed out of the alley after him and Jason ran up to where he had been standing. It was one thing to hear of these strange powers called Allomancy and entirely another to see them happening right in front of him. The stranger had another set of coins at the ready and there was nowhere for the newcomer to hide along the street. Just before the stranger threw out his third attempt, the newcomer seemed to stop in his tracks and fly backwards and upwards. The stranger had to throw himself out of the way or be kicked in the head. The newcomer flew up and over the roof of one of the buildings and fell out of sight. Jason followed his flight with his jaw hanging open. “Amazing, isn’t it,” whispered a voice behind him. Jason nodded, then jumped in startlement. He started to turn towards the voice, but the dagger slit his throat before he had done more than turn his head. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jason was just a REGULAR VILLAGER. Day 2 begins! I think the 36 hours worked out pretty well, so we’ll continue with that. I may not be able to post the write ups exactly on time, but any vote made after 36 hours from this post will not be counted. Link to Updated Player List

Just a heads up everyone: I finally got everyone's night orders. Unfortunately, I've only got another 10 minutes before my next class, so I won't be able to do the write up until later. Expect it an hour or two early, but that's the earliest I can get it to you. On the bright side, this one should be a ton of fun!

Yeah, I should clarify that. There are no hints or such within the write ups. I choose people based on how well they'd fit into the story, not for any subtle or clever reason. Don't get me wrong, I'll be sitting here, laughing my head off, if something matches up like that, but I won't do it to hint at anything. Feel free to read into my write ups as much as you want though. As long as you enjoy them, that's all I care about!

Night 2 (An Army of None) The reality of what they were up against hit home when the town awoke to find Dr. Digits dead. They obviously couldn’t just sit it out and drown in their misfortune. The traitors must have heard that the town was on to them and decided to act first. As Quinn yelled “I told you so!” to anyone who would listen (or to anyone within earshot for that matter), in typical, good, old-fashioned mob justice, the town started to suspect the outcasts. “That bricklayer guy, I think his name is Porridge? He’s too quiet and I heard that he… does… stuff? I’m not entirely sure, but I’ll bet you it was him.” “You know what wanderer means? Neither do I, but it means not one of us good people! He’s probably behind all this!” “That little urchin has ruined yet another set of my sheets! If he’s willing to do that, I’ll bet he’s willing to kill too! Let’s get him!” Just as the crowd was starting to work itself into a frenzy, Grayv stepped right into the middle of it with barely a glance at the corpse. Suddenly, like iron to a lodestone, the crowd’s attention shifted. “He’s so cold. He barely paid the doctor’s death any attention! Only a killer could be that cold.” “That twitch of his is obviously a sign of an unstable mind and I’ll bet he drinks to fight away the guilt!” “With all the battles he’s been in, I’ll bet he’s pierced with metal somewhere!” As the crowd built itself again into a righteous fury, all while eyeing Grayv, he sighed. He knew what was coming next and he knew there was no way he could change it. They would never be satisfied until their bloodlust was fulfilled. Far better for them to take it out on him than to watch the entire town burn. Besides, he was so very tired. At least this way, he’d finally find some peace. “So this is how it’s going to be then? Alright, but make this quick. I’ve seen far too many friends and enemies die slowly and if you untrained lot do the same to me, I swear to the Lord Ruler, I’ll come back and haunt you. I’m tired of being haunted by those images myself.” Grayv strolled through the crowd, his head held high as he calmly went to his death. He knelt before the chopping block as Edgar readied the axe he had gotten out of his shop. Edgar didn’t look too happy about this, but he was probably the strongest man in the town and had thus been forced into the role. Just as Edgar raised the axe over his head, the axe shining in the fading light, Grayv called out one last time. “Wait!” He exclaimed as he threw out his hand towards Edgar. The crowd grew silent as he pulled out his flask for one last swig. “Ah,” he sighed. “One for the road.” In the aftermath, Durnam checked over the corpse as the sun started to set behind him, but he found no sign that Grayv was Spiked. In fact, the only thing of interest was the copper pellets that rolled around in Grayv’s flask. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Votes Grayv - 7 (Edgar, Aether, Clancy, Beetle, Quinn, Wilson, Mat) Mat - 3 (Maill, Gambles, Porridge) Porridge - 1 (Kurkistan) Beetle - 1 (Dyring) Quinn - 1 (Jason) Grayv turned out to be a REGULAR VILLAGER and a SMOKER! Night 2 begins. Those with night roles, send them in. I’d like to try the 36 hour turns. If everyone gets in their night orders in early, I’ll do the write up early, but you have 36 hours from this posting to get them in. Link to the Night 1 post with player list.

Fair warning, everyone. There's two hours left before the end of Day 1.

It's an interesting theory and I could definitely see that, but then why is he allowing Odium to shatter so many shards? If this supposed mastermind is controlling Odium and is bonding multiple shards together to make himself/herself stronger, why would he allow or even want Odium to splinter the Shards on Sel? Why let him shatter Honor? If I recall correctly, the reason Odium shatters them is so that no one can pick up the shard again. That seems fairly counter intuitive to the supposed goal if this theory is true.