Werewolf Game - Main Thread - 4 June 2007

[i]It has been a harrowing night. There has been a pack of wil animals prowling through the village through the night. You thought it could not get much worse with all the howling, til you realise that there are screams amongst that eeirie noise. The screams sound distinctly human. Sleep seems along way away this night, and the dawn seems never to come…

With the rising of the sun the news is bleak. Through the mist shrouded lands figures move to investigate the sounds of the night before. They shamble, their gaunt faces betraying the sleepness of their night . Armed with nothing but pitchforks and trusty fruit knives they scour the hamlet. Suddenly there is a retching sound as one of them looks upon the sight of a torn body crumpled next to a wall. Looking you realise it was Theral, the towns protector. You now know that they will come again this night and the town is totally unprotected. You and your fellow villagers must band together and discover who amongst you is the lycathrope before the sun sets once again…
[/i]

Here is your chance to introduce yourselves, say who you are and what you were doing last night when the towns constable was slaughtered.

This game is open to all diatribe members. Just enter an intro below.

Game will officially start 8 am tomorrow morning.

Please vote on the Mafia Vote thread. Vote who you think is the werewolf and should be killed before sunset.

I’m invisiblemoose*, a blacksmith by trade. I was busy filling an order for repairs. Poor Theral, Who here could have done such a thing to him?

*Not a very in-character name, but then again neither is forgetting what I called myself and getting confused too!

[size=200]Meg[/size]

Oi am Meg. Oi am a simple herb-woman (some call me a herb-witch - but not to my face). Oi was brewing a simple for the relief of coughs and such last night.

Poor Theral indeed - 'e asn’t paid me for the last cure I made for him yet!

** OK - Meg is a cliche for a herbalist, but at least I’ll remember my name!

I’m Ange, a seamstress. I worked on dresses for most of the night.

Poor Theral, he was such a handsome man.

[size=150]Garn[/size]
I’m Garn Carter.
I have the privilege of being the night soil cart man.
I make my cart run in the early morning hours.
Last night I was in the arms of my welcome wench & and it took many hours of comforting her after that ruckus. Poor Theral was always a good customer, always leaving a decent bucket every day & always willing to share a tale after a long nights watch.

Garn, Nightsoil Carter

Fellow villagers, my name is Lyzlass, not ‘oi’, not ‘hey babe’ and certainly not ‘wench’. I am a tavern worker thank you very much, and the less of this silliness, the better.
I’m sure there is a perfectly reasonable explanation for Theral’s demise, but when I find out who left him outside for the wild creatures after killing him, I’ll string 'em up myself. It’s common decency to arrange for a proper funeral, no matter what!!!
I’m a hard worker, and was working hard last night, same as always.

[size=150]Meg[/size]

Zzzzzz

[size=150]Turn = Day[/size]

[i]There was no sleep in the village during the night. The scurrying sounds kept all awake and alert and yet…

On the morn there is a loud cry of anguish heard. You all rush to the sound and see Garn Carter holding the reamisn of his favorite wench in his arms. The attacks have not stopped.

There is much muttering in town, was it Garn Carter who munched his beloved. He had opportunity. Or was it Invisiblemoose. The smithy had alway been jealous of the way the night soil man could pull the wenches, he had the motive. Or Meg the herbalist. It is rumoured that herbalists and witches have the power to turn into creatures during the night, she had the means. Or it could have been Ange or Lyzlass, both of whom weere seen having words about this wench who was also seen with Theral, again motive. The whole village looks at these five as they know that one of them is responsable for all the death tha has occured in the village this night.

There is talk of a lynching…[/i]

Voting is on a seperate thread. Mafia Game - votes. Vote who you think the werewolf and whose death will alleviate the village. There is now a werewolf in play.

Good luck

ok I asked Alista about this and apparently it only works if we have actual conversations.

[size=150]Meg:[/size]
OMG another death in our sleepy little village! :open_mouth: :cry:

Invisiblemoose how soon can you make me new iron bindings for my door and a strong latch? I don’t have much money, but I could make you a good balm for burns. Can we maybe come to some arrangement?

I’ll be doing no such thing! I have my own matters to concern myself with.

Besides, what would these latches really be for? It sounds like you’re trying to protect yourself from the rest of us!

It makes sense you know… you could have gone out to pick herbs by the moon’s full light one eve and were… turned.

[size=150]Meg:[/size]

I am a helpless elderly herb-woman; I live on the outskirts of town and fear for my life. :confused: You on the other hand are suspiciously quick to point fingers. Would you care to taste my wolf-bane tea?

[size=150]Garn[/size]
Oh my beloved welcome wench!! May the killer be buried alive in the cesspit, buried upright to ensure the foul soul be forever trapped within its foul depths.
I am nay the killer! I couldn’t do such a thing.
Pass the wolfsbane tea Meg, I’ll prove my innocence or join my beloved trying!
Garn

And if we all drink this tea of hers, to no effect? I will submit myself to this brew if you yourself taste it first.

I do not point fingers but propose the possibility of the identity of this beast - you say you are unable to defend yourself and you live on the outskirts. And there is the possibility that you posess the ability to weaken or slay these demon creatures - if these beasts posess any intelligence at all, it would make sense that you are the easiest AND strategically sound target to infiltrate our humble town.

If my wish to consider all the facts before we do something we may later regret casts suspicion upon myself, then so be it. That inconvenience is nothing compared to preventing a rash action.

[size=150]Garn[/size]
Herb-wife Meg, serve us all up some of your most potent brew of wolfsbane!
Let us prove our innocence! Make mine double strength just to be sure.

Garn

[size=200]Meg:[/size]
Come then, and watch me brew it least you suspect duplicity. Who will come and drink the tea?

And, while we are at it who would be most likely to have known the movements of poor Theral, our noble defender than the supplier of his gear? More to the point, I guess - where are the other villagers? Sleeping the day away perhaps, having been about nefarious deeds under cover of darkness?

Invisiblemoose come, drink tea with me and let us no more cast aspersions at each other. I am glad Garn would join us as I fear to be alone with anyone at this stage.

Guys, I am unwell and going to bed. Can we take it for granted that Invisible Moose and Garn went to Megs hovel and drank the tea? If yes, this is how i envision it going down:

Upon reaching Meg’s 2 room hovel, you enter the main room. Many bunches of herbs are hanging from the rafters. Meg stirs up the fire and puts the kettle on. As the steam begins rising from the kettle, Meg hunts among the bunches, finally selecting one. She pulls a generous number of leaves from this bunch and crumbles them into the kettle. As she reaches for a second bunch Invisiblemoose asks suspiciously “Whats the other stuff for?”
“It’s just lemon balm to help the taste” says Meg “Your Ma prob’ly used it in cooking”. Meg holds the handful of crushed herbs out to you, and indeed the minty-lemony smell is vaguely familar. The lemon balm is added to the tea.

When the tea is ready, Meg sets out 3 small drinking bowls and asks Garn to pour the tea. Allowing Invisiblemoose and Garn to select their bowls first, Meg takes the remaining one and blows on it. She drinks the tea at a leisurely pace. Peering at Garn and Invisiblemoose to see how they react to the tea.

Assuming you both drink the tea: it has a minty flavour with hints of lemon and a bitter undertaste (OOC I have no idea what wolfsbane would taste like). Meg look very relieved that (presumably) neither of you appear to have any strange reactions to the tea.

OK. I have made a lot a assumptions here because I am ill and have to go. If any of this does not go down this way, please say so & I will ammend this post in the morning.

Very well then, woman. I’ll drink your tea.

Oh, oh, oh - accuse the people behaving sensibly, rather than those raging about!!
Garn I can understand - another reaps the poor reward of his philandering and bad judgement, anyone would feel guilty. Of course he could be though - not famous for your good temper are you, Garn?
We need to survive this unpleasantness, and we also need a new town protector, and we can ill afford to pay a premium!
I can’t do ALL the thinking around here!

All you can offer is criticism with no actual substance, eh, Lyzlass? I am still wary of this herb woman and her ways, but now I wonder if it is not you.

Should there be a lynching, I will vote for you.

[size=200]Turn = Night"[/size]

No more votes until the sun returns.

[i]The fear that was sweeping through the viallge crystallised into an anger. The murmering of the mob grew stronger. They had to do something before the sun sets…

Those in the village turned their anger on Ange. It was obvious that she was the werewolf. Her total lack of communications on this subject was not caused by the fact that she was a deaf mute, rather it was that she is a werewolf trying to keep her head low and trying not to bring any suspicion on herself. This total lack of silence was obviously a sign of guilt. If she was innocent she would have spoken by now.

By the late afternoon the crowd had bolstered their courage with the sour beer that was brewed in that village. They came across the house and stormed in. Dragging her outside, the villagers grabbed their most precious possession, a dagger that had been blessed by a priest ofr T’rapithis, the God of all that is holy. Plunging it into her breast she expired. The villagers waited as the sun went down to see the final change that would prove once and for all that she was a werewolf. That change never came…

With shame the villagers realised that they had slain an innocent woman and the wolf is still out there and would probably feed this night…"[/i]

Next voting round when the sun rises, til then the werewolf is on the roam. Good luck to you all.