Long Game 4: Colours of War

[Claincy he/him]

Night 5: Painful Abrasion

tin

The villagers and ambassadors gathered at the red salmon that morning to try to puzzle out what had happened the prior night. It was clear that Peng had been a Pahn Kahl agent and that Wyrm was dead. Rumour was that the returned had sacrificed himself to save Alan. Alan for his part seemed to be in a mild state of shock from the events of the night. Aodan strode into the Salmon smiling, grimly satisfied with the results of the night. He instantly had the attention of everyone in the restaurant as he declared that a strawman had been used to spy on Elo last night, and it had reported that he had attacked someone! Rising from his seat Alan joined Aodan in accusing Elo. The man who had attacked him and caused Wyrm's death would face justice.

 

As the day progressed the villagers continued to call for Elo's death. Making no attempt to defend himself Elo instead decried Aodan. Warning theme that he was taking control and asking if he could really be trusted not to put the interests of his own people before those of the Hallandren's.

 

As the day passed Alan retreated to the library. He had always felt the most comfortable here amongst the quiet of the library and the musty smell of the older books and despite the attack having occurred right outside he still felt himself grow calmer as he organised the books and sorted through the recently returned books. Despite the knowledge that there were people who wanted him dead he felt safe in the library. Surely nothing could go wrong amongst the majestic stacks of ancient tomes.

 

He was reading a particularly engrossing novel about a strange group of knights and odd creatures called “spren”, creatures that were a manifestation of ideas. What an intriguing concept! Alan was rudely jerked from his thoughts as a loud bang echoed through the library. What? Rising to his feet and moving towards the entrance Alan was shocked to see Elo bearing one of the heavy golden candlesticks used to light the entrance, the candle was still burning brightly. The rage that he had tried, though with little success, to hide for so long now blazed freely in his eyes as he stalked between the aisles, shouting for Alan to come face him.

 

Alan ducked back behind a bookshelf, momentarily stunned by the invasion of his sanctuary. His shock quickly gave way to anger, this Pahn Kahl dared to attack him and to invade his library. Alan waited quietly behind the bookshelf a few moments longer, then with an almighty heave he toppled the bookshelf onto Elo. Turning the would-be-murderer's shout into a strangled yell as he leaped to the side to avoid the falling books. Leaping over the remains of the shelf Alan slammed into Elo as he staggered to his feet sending the candlestick flying.

 

They grappled desperately amongst the fallen books, tripping over them and crashing to the ground, where Elo finally managed to get on top of Alan and wrapped his hands around Alan's neck. He started to squeeze, a maniac grin in his eye and Alan struggled helplessly trying to throw the small man off. Then Elo paused, he glanced behind him and his grip slackened for a moment. Using the opportunity Alan desperately heaved him off and struggled to his feet. Only then did he see what had distracted the crazed bard. The discarded candlestick had landed amidst the books Alan had been sorting and a roaring fire had begun. Already one of the nearby bookshelves was ablaze and Alan stared in horror as another caught fire. Elo had regained his feet and now stood nearby, transfixed by the flickering flames, a broad grin on his face.

 

Rage overcame Alan's common sense as he watched his precious books burn. He leaped at Elo, throwing the small man to the ground, he started punching him. Letting out his anguish through physical violence. Elo rolled on the ground, crying out in pain and Alan paused for a moment as something caught his eye. Reaching over he picked up the heavy tome he had been reading earlier and use that as a bludgeon, pounding Elo till he lay bruised and bloodied, barely moving. Sanity returned to Alan as he looked up, realising the danger of his situation. The whole library was ablaze, shelves collapsed as their wooden supports broke away and the flames now licked at the roof.

 

Leaving Elo behind Alan covered his face with his hands and ran through the library, dodging past blazing bookshelves, through the entry way and out into the crowded street where he knelt coughing as he watched his life burn to the ground in front of him.

 

_________________________________________________________________________________________

Elo was a Pahn Kahl Awakener

 

Vote tally

Aodan (0) : Elo

Elo (8) : Gammer, Bartholomew, Aodan, Rick, Alan, Wil'son, Ben, Rowan, Jim Bob Dirt, Sipha, Thomas

 

Night 5 begins and will end at 22:30 AEST / 12:30 GMT on Sunday.

Night actions must be in by 10:30 AEST / 00:30 GMT on Sunday.

 

Updated Player list:

 

Player List

Idrians

1. (The Only Joe) Jeo ~ Local Chef [deceased-Pahn Kahl normal]
2. (Alvron) Fron ~ Dye Worker [deceased-Idrian normal]
3. (AonarFaileas) Aodan ~ Scholar [idrian Monk]
4. (SirVarrock) Vard ~ Local Smith [deceased-Hallandren Agent]
5. (Mailliw73) Aili ~ Minor cook at the Red Salmon [Returned]
6. (GreyPilgrim) Grim ~ a Guard [deceased-Idrian normal]
7. (Nepene) Alan ~ Librarian
8. (Aspren) Asgren ~ Traveling Historian
9. (Dyring) Dyrii ~ The Mad Hatter [deceased-Idrian normal]
10. (Tulir) Tril ~ A Wanderer
11. (Herowannabe) Rowan ~ Silent Hunter
12. (Macen) Cen ~ Lore-craftsman
13. (Sphinx) Sifa ~ a Brewer
14. (Chid) Chide ~ The Paranoid
15. (the Gleeman) Thomas ~ Meddling Wanderer

Hallendrens

1. (Gamma Fiend) Gammer ~ Old Woman
2. (Bartbug) Bartholomew ~ Chedesh Remnant
3. (Metacognition) Cog ~ Local Craftsman
4. (el_warko) Elo ~ Short Bard [deceased-Pahn Kahl Awakener]
5. (Swimmingly) Swimim ~ Crazy Poet [deceased-Hallandren Awakener]
6. (Awesomeness Summoned) Summon ~ Messenger
7. (Wyrmhero) Wyrm ~ Scholar [deceased-Hallendren Returned]
8. (PorridgeBrick) Rick ~ A Stick
9. (little wilson) Wil’son ~ Fabric Merchant
10. (Quiver) Ver ~ Inept World Hopper
11. (Edgedancer) Ben ~ Non-denominational Priest guy.
12. (a smart guy) Sart ~ an 'Artist'
13. (Adolin_Dustbringer) Jim Bob Dirt ~ Dirt Salesman
14. (Nard1993) Dainard ~ Stable Boy
15. (JasonPenguin) Peng ~ a Thief [deceased-Pahn Kahl Awakener]

Edited April 25, 2014 by lord Claincy Ffnord

[el_warko he/him]

That was awesome. Viva la Pahn Kahl! Best of luck to all.

 

Edit: Made most ghostly.

Edited April 26, 2014 by el_warko

[Claincy he/him]

Glad you liked it.

 

To everyone: If you know you are going to die and have a specific idea about how you want to go just toss me a pm So long as I have time to do so I will try to utilize it. It can be fun tailoring a death scene that way.

 

Also: Available bodies for lifeless.

Jeo, Fron, Elo, Swimim, Grim, Wyrm, Peng.  [Yes, if you really want Elo I will make it work ]

Edited April 25, 2014 by lord Claincy Ffnord

[GreyPilgrim he/him]

Hi all. I was off the map for a while, so didn't get to do a goodbye post. It was a good game, no hard feelings against any of you. I was pretty much the best choice based on the general information at the time. Now that I have a feeling for the game in general I hope I can do better in the next ones! Thank you all for a great game!

[Nepene he/him]

That was an awesomely violent and hot description. Sounds like great fun.

 

Alan kneeled down on the ground, his hands bloody, splinters across his torso, his books burning. It was hard. The deaths. He hadn't wanted them to die. He should have fought harder. So many had died. Wyrm had died because of him. He had to kill Elo.

 

A page, half burnt, flittered through the air on a shimmering current of heat. He grasped it, looking to see what it said. It was a full illustration of a man, the leader of a powerful religion, blessed by god, said to be immortal. Vanished from the land. And a name. Wyrn. He collapsed and wept.

[Mailliw73 he/him]

If Elo was a PK Awakener, is that at the time of his death or at the beginning?

Aili watched the fire from afar, as she was locking up the Red Salmon. Crouching to fit through the doors, she went back out into the street to see Alan come out of the library, clutching a paper in his hand. Ever since the monk had shared his insight, letting everyone know that Elo was a destructive Pahn Kahl, people had been condemning Elo. The short bard had been funny, even when he had flirted with Aili after she had become more curvaceous. She was surprised that he had been a rebel.

Aili ducked back into the Red Salmon, locked the doors, and retreated to her room in the back. She changed into a thin, gossamer nightgown and settled herself into her bed, worried, but hopeful, for the next day.

Edited April 25, 2014 by Mailliw73

[Claincy he/him]

If Elo was a PK Awakener, is that at the time of his death or at the beginning?

What I say there is always as they were at the beginning as that was their "role" whether they still possessed the breaths or not.

I think it is better that way, but if you disagree feel free to explain why.

[the Gleeman he/him]

The library... why'd it have to be the library. Thomas had always had a love of books, in fact, history was his favorite place to explore. 

 

He felt bad for Alan and as such left a couple boxings and some food near where Alan was staying. It payed to bribe a librarian.Yes, I know boxings are frivolous and useless in this world... That is the point.

 

Edit: Text color to blue

Edited April 26, 2014 by the Gleeman

[Awesomeness Summoned he/him]

Summon knew he shouldn't have taken a delivery that was a half day's journey away but now that he was no longer an awakener he couldn't afford to pass up well paying jobs. So much had happened in one day. He was having troubles piecing it all together. The good news was that three assassins were now dead. There can't be many more can there?

Smoldering debris crumbled and cracked beneathe his boots as he surveyed what was left of the library. Leave town for one day and it burns to the ground. He randomly kicked a piece of wood out of his path and was surprised to find a book, one of the few that appeared to have survived the inferno. The cover was singed and too blackened to read the title but a quick scan through showed most of the inner pages were in good condition. The title of the book wouldn't matter to Alan though. He'd just be glad to have at least one book to start the new library with.

Summon tucked the book into his traveling cloak's inner pocket for the next time he ran into Alan. It was one package Summon would gladly deliver for free. He scanned the rubble one last time then headed off to find out what other events he'd missed while away.

Edit: stupid auto correct

Edited April 26, 2014 by Awesomeness Summoned

[Gamma Fiend he/him]

Gammer was a darkened silhouette, illuminated by the fiery glow of the inferno, working away on her embroidery by the fire's light. She had fled her house earlier from the stench of Ichor alcohol to get fresh air, only to now be coughing on smoke and tasting ashes in the wind. But still she stitched. She tried to capture the majestic image of the dancing flames, the clouds of black smoke billowing off of the pyre and into the flame-cast sky, but ever since she became Drab she couldn't work the colors right. She had thought the extra protection would have been worth it, but who knew what terrors the night held? She still was deft enough and was able to stitch in Elo's name, blackened with soot from the fire he helped start, into the embroidery.

Gammer was so absorbed in her thoughts that she slipped and pricked herself with the needle. She stopped and stared, amazed at the swelling bead of dull red blood on her fingertip. How many years had it been since she was careless enough to do that? Her fingers were calloused enough from the years of embroidering that she didn't feel the pain, but the shock of her clumsiness hurt more than anything else.

She sighed and wished Dyrii would hurry back from whatever task she had been forced to send him on for the night. She didn't like the stink of Ichor-alcohol, but she hated the thought of her own death.

Edited: Added in bold, as per request.

Edited April 28, 2014 by Gamma Fiend

[Nepene he/him]

The library... why'd it have to be the library. Thomas had always had a love of books, in fact, history was his favorite place to explore. 

 

He felt bad for Alan and as such left a couple boxings and some food near where Alan was staying. It payed to bribe a librarian.Yes, I know boxings are frivolous and useless in this world... That is the point.

 

Edit: Text color to blue

 

Alan tentatively picked through the mess of burnt books. The fire hadn't consumed all. It had swept through, but it seemed to avoid some areas. In places of deep ash and death he found new life. Not much. Too few had survived. There was this one, written in metal. It was in a language he didn't understand with strange arcane symbols with circles and spikes. The metal had resisted the flame. He grasped it close to his chest.

 

He heard Thomas coming up besides him.

 

"Thank you for the metal. I see the way forward now. Books must be made flame resistant. With metal covers. Then this terrible death will never happen again. Your boxings will box in the books, protecting them forever. I wish, inside, that we could make ourselves metal too. Then none would die from fire."

[Claincy he/him]

A last minute reminder that you have 1 hour left to get night actions in.

I'm still missing a few more than would be ideal.

[the Gleeman he/him]

Well at least one other person got my reason for boxings...  really I was throwing it out there to see what people would do with it.

[Claincy he/him]

Night actions are now closed. Returned, it is on to you

Da da dum dum, da da dum, da da dum dum, da da dum dum dum!

[Claincy he/him]

Day 6: Intense Gravitation

Pewter

A figure crept through the town fingering the hilt of the dagger strapped to their leg. It was a good dagger, folded steel with a leather wrapped hilt. A poor weapon for fighting, but an excellent one for a murder. The figure scowled as they considered it, as excellent as it was it couldn't possibly compare with what they had lost. It was like comparing a mere drab to a returned. The figure growled quietly, they would take it back. Sooner or later, perhaps tonight.

 

They slipped into the Green Potato through the back door, closing it quietly behind them. The inn was quiet now, the last of the inns patrons had long since departed to one of the inn's rooms or to their own homes. The figure kept moving, climbing the stairs, stepping carefully over one he knew would creak. Finally the figure reached the right door and carefully tested the latch. Finding it unlocked the figure pulled on the handle and carefully swung it open. On the other side, silent and completely still, stood Paxen. Seeing the figure the lifeless raised its sword and attacked. The would-be murderer leaped back, desperately trying to avoid the attack. The lifeless struck again and the figure barely deflected the blow with his dagger. If Paxen had been a remotely capable fighter the figure would be already dead, their dagger was simply no match for the lifeless's sword.

 

The figure turned and ran across the landing to the stairs, desperate to escape, and Paxen ran after them, stumbling slightly over an uneven floorboard. He reached the stairs just after the figure and, heedless of the risk that would make an ordinary man pause, Paxen leaped after the figure and tried to grab them. Paxen missed and he went crashing down the stairs past the figure, landing in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. The figure cursed, the racket would have woken everyone in the inn, there would be no chance of killing the target now. They hurried down the stairs, stepping over Paxen's broken body, and ran out into the night.

 

Asgren strolled through the dark streets. For a change tonight he had found no difficulty in procuring another breath, and the extra life and perception made him cheerful despite the situation. He sobered somewhat as he considered it, Peng was dead, as were Elo and Jeo. They were being killed off, one by one and worst of all the sword was gone! Taken by whoever had murdered Peng. Still, Asgren stayed positive, regardless of how this ended it would make for an excellent start to his career as a historian. He had been saying he would start for years, but had somehow never quite got around to it. Of course that didn't stop him from frequently and proudly referring to himself as a historian.

 

Somehow it never occurred to Asgren that he might be killed. After all he was a historian and who would kill a historian? Historians observed and recorded, they didn't interfere directly. Except, technically, Asgren was interfering. He knew he shouldn't, but there was just so much potential for a great story here, a major war between countries with such long-held enmity! Asgren was just giving history a little helping hand. The others wanted the war for petty revenge, but Asgren considered himself above such emotions, he served a higher cause.

 

Caught up in his reflection and self-gratification Asgren failed to hear the footsteps approaching from a side street until he bumped into the other man as he came round the corner. Asgren stammered an apology and backed away a step, but the other man stepped forward. Only then did Asgren notice the grey cast of his skin and realise that he was in serious trouble. He looked up into the dead, emotionless face of Vard. “W..wait” Asgren stammered as Vard advanced, “I'm sorry we killed you, but...but you were in the way! H..history demanded it! Please!” Asgren's plea's fell on deaf ears, if Vard was still capable of understanding, he showed no sign. Vard's sword rose and fell and blood spattered the cobbles.

 

Elsewhere words were spoken, breath flowed from one person to another, and in another place Wyrm rose and stood all colour drained from his body

 

Paxen's body was too badly damaged to be reused and was burnt. Dyrii was found and was added to the lifeless barracks.

__________________________________________________________________________________________

Asgren was a normal Pahn Kahl.

 

Day 6 begins and will end at 22:30 AEST / 12:30 GMT on Tuesday.

 

Updated Player List

Idrians

1. (The Only Joe) Jeo ~ Local Chef [deceased-Pahn Kahl normal]
2. (Alvron) Fron ~ Dye Worker [deceased-Idrian normal]
3. (AonarFaileas) Aodan ~ Scholar [idrian Monk]
4. (SirVarrock) Vard ~ Local Smith [deceased-Hallandren Agent]
5. (Mailliw73) Aili ~ Minor cook at the Red Salmon [Returned]
6. (GreyPilgrim) Grim ~ a Guard [deceased-Idrian normal]
7. (Nepene) Alan ~ Librarian
8. (Aspren) Asgren ~ Traveling Historian [deceased-Pahn Kahl]
9. (Dyring) Dyrii ~ The Mad Hatter [deceased-Idrian normal]
10. (Tulir) Tril ~ A Wanderer
11. (Herowannabe) Rowan ~ Silent Hunter
12. (Macen) Cen ~ Lore-craftsman
13. (Sphinx) Sifa ~ a Brewer
14. (Chid) Chide ~ The Paranoid
15. (the Gleeman) Thomas ~ Meddling Wanderer

Hallendrens

1. (Gamma Fiend) Gammer ~ Old Woman
2. (Bartbug) Bartholomew ~ Chedesh Remnant
3. (Metacognition) Cog ~ Local Craftsman
4. (el_warko) Elo ~ Short Bard [deceased-Pahn Kahl Awakener]
5. (Swimmingly) Swimim ~ Crazy Poet [deceased-Hallandren Awakener]
6. (Awesomeness Summoned) Summon ~ Messenger
7. (Wyrmhero) Wyrm ~ Scholar [deceased-Hallendren Returned]
8. (PorridgeBrick) Rick ~ A Stick
9. (little wilson) Wil’son ~ Fabric Merchant
10. (Quiver) Ver ~ Inept World Hopper
11. (Edgedancer) Ben ~ Non-denominational Priest guy.
12. (a smart guy) Sart ~ an 'Artist'
13. (Adolin_Dustbringer) Jim Bob Dirt ~ Dirt Salesman
14. (Nard1993) Dainard ~ Stable Boy
15. (JasonPenguin) Peng ~ a Thief [deceased-Pahn Kahl Awakener]

 

And the writeup is right on time! YAY!

[Edgedancer he/him]

Applaudes another succesful kill. 2 left, hopefully.

[nard1993]

Yeah, well done!

On another important note, who is left that is suspicious?  I don't really have any theories of who to vote for today

[Claincy he/him]

All night pms have been sent.

On with the day.

[Aspren]

Oh, well, actually that was a part of my plan, uh plans. There's more than one. I just want you to think that I'm dead, uh dying. *coughs up blood*

-- that hurts a bit more than I thought it would. They didn't mention it hurting so much...  Is that *splutter* normal?

*falls over, dead (or at-least that's what he want's you to think)*

[Nepene he/him]

Well. A good end to a very tense night. Four down. I guess they hit a block of some sort.

[the Gleeman he/him]

So now all suspicions should be on more experienced players, specifically myself (though I've only played one other game), Gammer, Cog, Rowan, and Ben. Most likely there are 0-2 more Idrian Pahn Kahl and 1-2 Halladrian Pahn Kahl with at least two more Pahn Kahl; not including spies. Only Aodan is cleared of all suspicion. 

[Edgedancer he/him]

Okay, it´s kind of late where I´m now, so this won´t be a masterpice of deductive logic but I took a look at the old votes if they give us any info.

The only thing I found is that we have no confirmed PK in the Swimim vote (Night 2) and I guess having at least on in there is likely. Which leaves us with these five who all voted for 2 innocents before: Rick (Dyrii,Swimim), Tril (Dyrii,Swimim) Rowan (Dyrii,Swimim)  Dainard (Swimmin, Grim) and Bartholomew (Swimim, Grim).

Excluded are Gammer and Aili who I think are relatively trustworthy at this point.

Something better might follow in 10 hours plus when I´m awake again but hopefully this gets some discussion started.

No, now the tools of evil itself are in my argument lists.

[Gamma Fiend he/him]

Gammer sighed a breath of relief. She had survived the night, although Dyrii had been apparently discovered on his mission and sent to the Lifeless Barracks. It was odd. Gammer now almost kind of missed the smell of the Ichor-alcohol, it was a comforting smell when you know you were protected with it around. Whether it be by the Pahn Kahl or the Idrian Monk and his thugs, Gammer knew she only had a matter of time left.

Was it enough to finish the Embroidery? She stitched Asgren's name full of red blood, the noose closed to denote his guilt of being a Pahn Kahl. But how many more were out there? Gammer had her few suspicions, but she had been wrong so many times before. She was beginning to lose her confidence. After all the years, when her eye-sight started fading, she didn't mind. She still had her pride. When her bones became old and frail, she didn't care. She still had her resolve. She may have lost her agility and nimbleness of youth, but her mind had been honed to a razor's edge, as sharp as ever. But now she full of doubt.

She sighed and went back to stitching, realizing she was running low on red colored fabric yet again. How much more blood was to be shed before this was over?

[bartbug he/him]

I won't vote for anyone first, because I don't have an idea of who's suspicious. However, using logic, we have basically proved me innocent. Aonar can vouch for me.

[Aonar he/him]

Aodan sat in the corner of the restaurant, ignoring for now the small discussion taking place. It had been another successful night, though not so great as the last had been. He had things to mull over before he made another accusation. 
 
Elo's lute case sat at his feet, unopened. It had survived the fire in the library miraculously untouched. He'd taken it as a memento, a token to remember the lives that had been lost, and the damage that had been done. Aodan bent down and undid the clasps. The lute was a thing of beauty, perfectly shaped and in pristine condition. Hesitantly, he plucked a few of the strings and adjusted the tuning keys. It was amazing how much easier these sorts of things were with absolute pitch. 
 
Glancing around to be sure no one was paying attention, Aodan began to play. Slow and halting at first, but gradually increasing in speed and complexity as old knowledge came back to the fore. Conversation slowed and stopped; the restaurant's patrons taking notice. He would've preferred they keep talking, but for now he continued to play, pondering the best course of action for the coming hours.
 
Being a (wannabe) musician IRL, I couldn't resist. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your lute, Elo.
 
Would people mind actually discussing things a little? I have suspicions, but no one I'm certain enough of to start a mass lynching on.