A cloaked man rode his stallion to the peak of a hill, silhouetted against the thin light of the dying sun. A wind with the whistle of an aged and decrepit man chilled the plain and the sharp edge of the mountains that soared out of the earth and into the heights of the overcast sky. Hugging the base of the steely cold mountain range was a wood and splinter arrangement of houses in disrepair. A small, quiet village; the sharp wind lanced straight through the buildings, and to the bones of every man, woman and child. The village shivered collectively, seemingly ready to collapse under the weight of the world.
The cloaked man began to descend the hill, going slowly as if to delay arriving in the mournful, pale blue air. There was a stairway chiselled into the rock leading away from the village, and up to an opening that delved into the mountainside. Apart from this rare feature, there was little else to remark upon, and so it was until he came to the centre of the village, pulling up beside the church that also served as a meeting hall. A warm, fiery hue oozed from the plain, uncoloured glass of the church windows; the voices coming from within sounding monotone and heavy in their attempts to penetrate to the outside.
The village was a collection of migrants, not one of them had lived there long enough to call this place home. Every one in the village was a stranger, and those that met in the church were strangers also. The Jack, under the guise of one of the many migrants that had arrived in the past day, entered the church, nodding to all present, and took his place as one of them. They were not yet familiar with one another’s faces, and so once he had taken his place, they had already forgotten who had entered.
One among them sat in a place of respect, behind the altar at the head of the hall. He stared despondently through a side window to the beginning of the stair into the mountain; a gallows lurked there, the body of the tracker, Rathyr, hanging limp and cold as ice, swaying heavily in the wind. The werewolves had hunted in the night, but curiously had only taken a chew at his feet. He was more lynched that lunched, that man, Oubliette thought to himself. He’d almost met the noose the previous two days also - according to James, who now, too, was dead - but had finally been lynched last night, in lieu of genuine suspects.
All in the hall had been there for no more than a day. The elderly and the children in the other parts of the village were of no concern, as they were either too small or too frail to be one of the many evil killers from the land surrounding. James and Rathyr had been the last original inhabitants of the village. Most of the people in the hall assumed that the villains were in fact living in the area surrounding the village, or in the mountain - not in the village itself - and as such, they decided that lynching nightly was ineffectual and unnecessary. Still, though, some kept on debating their situation, fuelling the arguments, regardless of whether they agreed or disagreed, so that they at least had something to keep them occupied for the night.
‘Bollocks, we know there’s more than werewolves. Look at his ****ing scars! Doesn’t that look like a vampire bite to you?’ Alex challenged. Vasara helpfully presented the puncture marks on his neck.
‘Yes, perhaps, but we have to concentrate on the werewolves first. They’re the biggest threat after all. We can deal with the vampire later,’ said Hidrogeno.
‘That,’ said Gculk, ‘sounds like something a vampire would say.’
‘And you’d know, wouldn’t you,’ shot Trooper, who was leaning against a pillar by a window.’
‘Don’t you have anything constructive to say?’
Trooper turned back to the window, too irritated to respond. The debate continued along the same lines, occasionally breaking when there was nothing immediately obvious to say. The discussion was largely unmotivated, and few took much part in it. Orj, Ativan and Moss played a quiet game of cards around a stool, Seff and Bulle laughed drunkenly from the balcony above, Captain Kris, seated on a pew, frowned at the ceiling in thought, and Swadius and FrisianDude chatted close by him.
Oubliette, conscious of the lack of progress, and occasionally sighing at the useless discourse that did take place, rose, groaning heavily, from his place behind the altar. The group on the ground floor noticed immediately, and Seff and Bulle, noticing the silence, approached the balcony and waited for the middle aged man to speak.
‘There are some things that I need to tell you… Where best to start?’ Running his hand through his hair, he continued. ‘There is an Oracle among us, and whoever that may be sent me a dream last night. The dream gave no specifics, and it’s taken me the whole day to become certain of its meaning in my own mind. Now, I am sure, and cannot delay any longer.’
There were no interruptions, though he seemed to be waiting for one, or at least a confirmation that they had believed, or understood. Many of them had received strange dreams also, though, and the presence of an Oracle didn’t seem wholly unbelievable to them at that time. ‘I have received cryptic dreams also, Oubliette. Please continue,’ said Ativan.
‘Good,’ began Oubliette. ‘Well, it has been made clear to me that we do indeed have both werewolf and vampire on our hands, as well as something demonic. Overall we have four villains to deal with – and I mean “deal with”, for they are among us. Those four villains are four of the people in this building. Not only that,’ Oubliette went on through the outbreak of muttering, ‘but there is a demonic presence, separate from the villains, that will be trying to confuse us in rooting out these villains. That demon will try to trick us into thinking that he is one of them, with the purpose of getting himself hanged.’
- AU-AOOOOOOOOOO -
A horn blew from a short distance away, and everyone, startled, at first thinking of a werewolf’s howl, rushed to the double doors at the end of the hall and burst out into the pale cold. On the crest of the hill, and extending in a semi-circle around the village, cutting them off all the way to the edges of the mountain, were roughly a hundred soldiers, on the whole wearing rusted mail and with pole-weapons, board shields and crossbows for arms. A unit of cavalry, caked in silver plate and with silver pole-arms stood at the centre of the semi circle of troops. One of these men came down to parley with them. A flag bearing the King’s sign flapped weakly from the end of his spear. Coming closer, they saw now that over chain mail, his silver plate was patterned with razor sharp spikes and blades that would cut anyone who tried to lay a hand on the wearer. Pulling up a dozen yards away, the scruffy man within the bright armour coughed, spat, and then spoke.
‘This village sent messengers to us; a werewolf problem. ‘Ow’s that goin’?’
They looked to one another, hopeful, but somewhat put off by the man’s manner and appearance. These men were the kingdom’s control on the werewolf population, and though they sounded chivalric, or dreadful in tales, this man was not what any of them would have expected.
‘WELL? What’s what? This the village wi’ the infestation?’ He wasn’t a patient man, clearly.
‘Yes, at least I expect so. None of us have been here more than a day, but these parts are plagued by werewolves, and even vampires,’ said Orj.
‘Roite, well, by midnight then, string someone up. We’ll be here ten days max until yer done, no more ’n' that. If you aren’t done bi’ then, we’ll burn ye’ down, ‘n’ bring some food up to us tomorra. Cheers. Got any apples? Bring 'em up if you 'ave. Cheerio.’
He began to trot away, but everyone, nonplussed by his instructions, called out to him. ‘Wait, what do you mean? What is it that’s expected of us?’
Sighing, he pulled round his mount and droned out in a monotonous voice, ‘you must kill one of the populace off every night until the werewolf killings stop. If you have not found and killed off the werewolves by the time we’re ready to leave, we torch the place. And most importantly,' he finished, his voice becoming animated, 'bring up some grub tomorra mornin’.’
‘And what about the vampire, and the other evil creatures?’ Said Trooper, frowning.
‘Yeah, them too,’ He replied, already trotting back up the hill.
They all looked around in despair at the system they must fall back in to. They had expected something more efficient, and kinder, from these elite soldiers devoted to exterminating werewolf infestations; but, like the inhabitants of the village before them, they must crudely kill off one of their number every night... Now, forced to lynch nightly, hemmed in with the villains, and with a time limit to keep under, the discussion once they retreated back into the church became much more involved.
[READ ALL OF THE FOLLOWING]
Things to be concious of in this game
- There are 4 Villains, 11 Innocents, and 1 Wild Card (The Joker).
- The Villains win when they equal or outnumber everyone else (Innocents, and Wild Card).
- The Innocents win when all the Villains (not including the Joker) have been lynched.
- The Joker wins if he gets the village to lynch him, by tricking them into thinking he is a Villain, but he loses if he dies any other way.
- Classes are like watered down roles, attributes. Some of them will be more useful than others, and more or less useful, or even useless, depending on your role or alignment (alignment being 'Innocent', 'Villain', or 'Wild Card' (The Joker)). They have also been named ambiguously or inaccurately to their function so that they cannot be easily guessed.
- I'll narrate roles as the gender of the role, but that has no bearing on the gender of the person playing that role. For example, in my last game, Ativan was the Succubus, a fem
- There are 5 Innocent Specials, 4 Villains, and 1 Joker. The Villains versus the Innocents, but the Joker's success depends on neither side's success.
Rules
To vote for someone, type 'Vote: [Player Name]' in bolded black. Voting any other way will be ignored. To un-vote, simply type 'Unvote'. If you are already voting someone, make sure to un-vote them before placing a new vote.
Do not edit your posts.
Do not PM, or communicate by any other means with other players, unless you are explicitly told by the host that you are allowed to.
Do not talk about the game outside of this thread.
Do not reveal your class info.
Do not reveal your role. If you reveal your role you will be banished the following in-game day. [note on role 'claiming']
Do not post screenshots. Posting screenshots - especially of PMs - is strictly forbidden. If you break this rule, you will be banished outright.
Do not communicate with the living players in any way if you have died.
You must post once a day. If you miss a day, make up for it on the next. If you are not going to post for more than two days in a row, then contact me, and I can consider whether you need replacing or not.
Forced vote counts - where every player must vote - may be held in the course of the game, meaning it is doubly important to check, and post, every day.
And now, note this carefully: Any information you gain in the course of the game is not to be posted as evidence. For example, if the seer were to discover a werewolf, they should use that information as insight only, and collect the evidence to get the werewolf lynched from his posts.
For an example on how Werewolf/Mafia games are played, visit [this] to get the gist of it.
If you have any questions about the game, your role, class, items, or objectives, then PM me. Do NOT ask anyone else questions about the game except me. You may PM me any time and I will be more than happy to answer any questions, no matter how silly you might think they are.
Classes
The cloaked man began to descend the hill, going slowly as if to delay arriving in the mournful, pale blue air. There was a stairway chiselled into the rock leading away from the village, and up to an opening that delved into the mountainside. Apart from this rare feature, there was little else to remark upon, and so it was until he came to the centre of the village, pulling up beside the church that also served as a meeting hall. A warm, fiery hue oozed from the plain, uncoloured glass of the church windows; the voices coming from within sounding monotone and heavy in their attempts to penetrate to the outside.
The village was a collection of migrants, not one of them had lived there long enough to call this place home. Every one in the village was a stranger, and those that met in the church were strangers also. The Jack, under the guise of one of the many migrants that had arrived in the past day, entered the church, nodding to all present, and took his place as one of them. They were not yet familiar with one another’s faces, and so once he had taken his place, they had already forgotten who had entered.
One among them sat in a place of respect, behind the altar at the head of the hall. He stared despondently through a side window to the beginning of the stair into the mountain; a gallows lurked there, the body of the tracker, Rathyr, hanging limp and cold as ice, swaying heavily in the wind. The werewolves had hunted in the night, but curiously had only taken a chew at his feet. He was more lynched that lunched, that man, Oubliette thought to himself. He’d almost met the noose the previous two days also - according to James, who now, too, was dead - but had finally been lynched last night, in lieu of genuine suspects.
All in the hall had been there for no more than a day. The elderly and the children in the other parts of the village were of no concern, as they were either too small or too frail to be one of the many evil killers from the land surrounding. James and Rathyr had been the last original inhabitants of the village. Most of the people in the hall assumed that the villains were in fact living in the area surrounding the village, or in the mountain - not in the village itself - and as such, they decided that lynching nightly was ineffectual and unnecessary. Still, though, some kept on debating their situation, fuelling the arguments, regardless of whether they agreed or disagreed, so that they at least had something to keep them occupied for the night.
‘Bollocks, we know there’s more than werewolves. Look at his ****ing scars! Doesn’t that look like a vampire bite to you?’ Alex challenged. Vasara helpfully presented the puncture marks on his neck.
‘Yes, perhaps, but we have to concentrate on the werewolves first. They’re the biggest threat after all. We can deal with the vampire later,’ said Hidrogeno.
‘That,’ said Gculk, ‘sounds like something a vampire would say.’
‘And you’d know, wouldn’t you,’ shot Trooper, who was leaning against a pillar by a window.’
‘Don’t you have anything constructive to say?’
Trooper turned back to the window, too irritated to respond. The debate continued along the same lines, occasionally breaking when there was nothing immediately obvious to say. The discussion was largely unmotivated, and few took much part in it. Orj, Ativan and Moss played a quiet game of cards around a stool, Seff and Bulle laughed drunkenly from the balcony above, Captain Kris, seated on a pew, frowned at the ceiling in thought, and Swadius and FrisianDude chatted close by him.
Oubliette, conscious of the lack of progress, and occasionally sighing at the useless discourse that did take place, rose, groaning heavily, from his place behind the altar. The group on the ground floor noticed immediately, and Seff and Bulle, noticing the silence, approached the balcony and waited for the middle aged man to speak.
‘There are some things that I need to tell you… Where best to start?’ Running his hand through his hair, he continued. ‘There is an Oracle among us, and whoever that may be sent me a dream last night. The dream gave no specifics, and it’s taken me the whole day to become certain of its meaning in my own mind. Now, I am sure, and cannot delay any longer.’
There were no interruptions, though he seemed to be waiting for one, or at least a confirmation that they had believed, or understood. Many of them had received strange dreams also, though, and the presence of an Oracle didn’t seem wholly unbelievable to them at that time. ‘I have received cryptic dreams also, Oubliette. Please continue,’ said Ativan.
‘Good,’ began Oubliette. ‘Well, it has been made clear to me that we do indeed have both werewolf and vampire on our hands, as well as something demonic. Overall we have four villains to deal with – and I mean “deal with”, for they are among us. Those four villains are four of the people in this building. Not only that,’ Oubliette went on through the outbreak of muttering, ‘but there is a demonic presence, separate from the villains, that will be trying to confuse us in rooting out these villains. That demon will try to trick us into thinking that he is one of them, with the purpose of getting himself hanged.’
- AU-AOOOOOOOOOO -
A horn blew from a short distance away, and everyone, startled, at first thinking of a werewolf’s howl, rushed to the double doors at the end of the hall and burst out into the pale cold. On the crest of the hill, and extending in a semi-circle around the village, cutting them off all the way to the edges of the mountain, were roughly a hundred soldiers, on the whole wearing rusted mail and with pole-weapons, board shields and crossbows for arms. A unit of cavalry, caked in silver plate and with silver pole-arms stood at the centre of the semi circle of troops. One of these men came down to parley with them. A flag bearing the King’s sign flapped weakly from the end of his spear. Coming closer, they saw now that over chain mail, his silver plate was patterned with razor sharp spikes and blades that would cut anyone who tried to lay a hand on the wearer. Pulling up a dozen yards away, the scruffy man within the bright armour coughed, spat, and then spoke.
‘This village sent messengers to us; a werewolf problem. ‘Ow’s that goin’?’
They looked to one another, hopeful, but somewhat put off by the man’s manner and appearance. These men were the kingdom’s control on the werewolf population, and though they sounded chivalric, or dreadful in tales, this man was not what any of them would have expected.
‘WELL? What’s what? This the village wi’ the infestation?’ He wasn’t a patient man, clearly.
‘Yes, at least I expect so. None of us have been here more than a day, but these parts are plagued by werewolves, and even vampires,’ said Orj.
‘Roite, well, by midnight then, string someone up. We’ll be here ten days max until yer done, no more ’n' that. If you aren’t done bi’ then, we’ll burn ye’ down, ‘n’ bring some food up to us tomorra. Cheers. Got any apples? Bring 'em up if you 'ave. Cheerio.’
He began to trot away, but everyone, nonplussed by his instructions, called out to him. ‘Wait, what do you mean? What is it that’s expected of us?’
Sighing, he pulled round his mount and droned out in a monotonous voice, ‘you must kill one of the populace off every night until the werewolf killings stop. If you have not found and killed off the werewolves by the time we’re ready to leave, we torch the place. And most importantly,' he finished, his voice becoming animated, 'bring up some grub tomorra mornin’.’
‘And what about the vampire, and the other evil creatures?’ Said Trooper, frowning.
‘Yeah, them too,’ He replied, already trotting back up the hill.
They all looked around in despair at the system they must fall back in to. They had expected something more efficient, and kinder, from these elite soldiers devoted to exterminating werewolf infestations; but, like the inhabitants of the village before them, they must crudely kill off one of their number every night... Now, forced to lynch nightly, hemmed in with the villains, and with a time limit to keep under, the discussion once they retreated back into the church became much more involved.
[READ ALL OF THE FOLLOWING]
Things to be concious of in this game
- There are 4 Villains, 11 Innocents, and 1 Wild Card (The Joker).
- The Villains win when they equal or outnumber everyone else (Innocents, and Wild Card).
- The Innocents win when all the Villains (not including the Joker) have been lynched.
- The Joker wins if he gets the village to lynch him, by tricking them into thinking he is a Villain, but he loses if he dies any other way.
- Classes are like watered down roles, attributes. Some of them will be more useful than others, and more or less useful, or even useless, depending on your role or alignment (alignment being 'Innocent', 'Villain', or 'Wild Card' (The Joker)). They have also been named ambiguously or inaccurately to their function so that they cannot be easily guessed.
- I'll narrate roles as the gender of the role, but that has no bearing on the gender of the person playing that role. For example, in my last game, Ativan was the Succubus, a fem
- There are 5 Innocent Specials, 4 Villains, and 1 Joker. The Villains versus the Innocents, but the Joker's success depends on neither side's success.
Rules
To vote for someone, type 'Vote: [Player Name]' in bolded black. Voting any other way will be ignored. To un-vote, simply type 'Unvote'. If you are already voting someone, make sure to un-vote them before placing a new vote.
Do not edit your posts.
Do not PM, or communicate by any other means with other players, unless you are explicitly told by the host that you are allowed to.
Do not talk about the game outside of this thread.
Do not reveal your class info.
Do not reveal your role. If you reveal your role you will be banished the following in-game day. [note on role 'claiming']
Do not post screenshots. Posting screenshots - especially of PMs - is strictly forbidden. If you break this rule, you will be banished outright.
Do not communicate with the living players in any way if you have died.
You must post once a day. If you miss a day, make up for it on the next. If you are not going to post for more than two days in a row, then contact me, and I can consider whether you need replacing or not.
Forced vote counts - where every player must vote - may be held in the course of the game, meaning it is doubly important to check, and post, every day.
And now, note this carefully: Any information you gain in the course of the game is not to be posted as evidence. For example, if the seer were to discover a werewolf, they should use that information as insight only, and collect the evidence to get the werewolf lynched from his posts.
For an example on how Werewolf/Mafia games are played, visit [this] to get the gist of it.
If you have any questions about the game, your role, class, items, or objectives, then PM me. Do NOT ask anyone else questions about the game except me. You may PM me any time and I will be more than happy to answer any questions, no matter how silly you might think they are.
Role | Player | Class | Fate |
Joker | | Deceased: Toasted by a Fire Wyrm | ||
Father of the Brotherhood | | Deceased: Eaten on Night 1 by Werewolf | ||
Innocent | | Deceased: Committed Suicide on Day 3 | ||
Werewolf | | Deceased: Lynched on Day 1 by Majority | ||
Farmer | Blessed | | Survivor! | |
Oracle | | Deceased: Eaten on Night 3 by Werewolf | ||
Vampire | | Deceased: Lynched on Day 3 | ||
Priest | Moss | Insomniac | | Survivor! |
Innocent | | Deceased: Killed with Knife by Moss on Day 3 | ||
Jack | | Deceased: Toasted by a Fire Wyrm | ||
Innocent | Oneironaut | | Survivor! | |
Vampire | | Deceased: Lynched on Day 2 by Majority | ||
Innocent | | Deceased: Died from poisoning at The Lynch of Day 2 | ||
Werewolf | | Deceased: Lynched on Day 4 | ||
Herbalist | Sage | | Survivor! | |
Innocent | | Deceased: Slaughtered by Seff at The Lynch of Day 3 |
Classes
