[Formendacil]

The fifth day after Formendacil’s death began with a red sun rising over the village.

“Red at night, sailor’s delight; red in the morning, sailors take warning,” murmured Alcarillo.

“What do sailors have to do with us?” asked Farael. “We’re way too far inland.”

“Just a rhyme I picked up in Pelargir,” said Alcarillo. “Anyway, it strikes me as a bad omen. I imagine that somebody died last night.”

“And somebody will probably die today,” agreed Kuruharan, coming up behind them.

The village square was slowly starting to gather the remaining villagers. One by one they trickled in from their respective homes, until finally the last-rising Lhunardawen arrived.

“Did you have another vision?” Meneltarmacil wanted to know immediately.

“Yes, hold on,” said Lhuna. “Is everybody here?”

They took their morning headcount. Someone was missing. Gurthang, usually an early riser, being a rancher, had not risen.

As one, they made their way to the small house where Gurthang lived when pasturing his cattle near the town. “Better than life on the range,” he had said.

Bravely, Amanaduial pushed the door ajar, and then stopped, horrified, at the gory scene that met her eyes. The others pushed in behind her.

What they saw was not for the faint of heart. Gurthang’s home was covered in sticky, drying blood. Guts had sprayed the walls, and shreds of flesh were scattered over the furniture and across the floor. What was left of his body lay crumpled in the middle of the floor.

“He put up a fight at first,” said Malkatoj. “Look at all the wolf hair scattered around!”

“Let’s not bury him, what’s say,” suggested Naria. “It’s a bit uncustomary, but I think a cremation would be more in order.”

“Before we grab our torches, let’s see what message they left us,” said Rune.

“Why bother?” asked Kuruharan. “It’ll just be more self-satisfied crowing about how stupid we are and unable to find them.”

“How would you know?” asked Meneltarmacil. “Are you a Werewolf?”

“Having a brain doesn’t make me a Werewolf!” retorted the Dwarf.

At this point, Naria had caught sight of the note, pinned to the wall, smeared with blood. She looked over it once, and then crumpled it up, and tossed it onto the floor.

“More of the same,” she said. “We may as well let it burn.”

Leaving the house, the Villagers set fire to Gurthang and his home, and returned to the village square to try and out his killers in yet another day of accusations and lies.


Night 4 is over, Day 4 is begun.

You may begin posting.

Those alive:

Meneltarmacil - Creepy Guy on the Edge of Town
Cailin - Noble Kleptomaniac
Azaelia - Town Drunk
Farael - Worm Hunter
Rune – Misplaced Hobbit Peace Activist
Alcarillo - Moneylender
Lhunardawen - Potion-Pizza Person
Amanaduial - Northman Travel Guide
Naria - Store Proprietor
Kuruharan - Dwarven Alcohol and Weapons Merchant
Malkatoj – Philosophy Professor

Those dead:

Formendacil - Moderator - Killed by Werewolves, Night 1
Gil-Galad - Shrubber - Ordo - Lynched by Village, Day 1
Kath - Gongfarmer - Cobbler - Killed by Werewolves, Night 2
Garin - Horse Loaner - Werewolf - Killed by Vilager, Day 2
Eluchil - Mild-Mannered Innkeeper - Ordo - Killed "Accidentally" by Werewolf, Day 2
NIGHT 3 - NO DEATH
Nilpaurion Felagund - Suspicious Carnivore - Ordo - Lynched by Village, Day 3
Valier - Brewmaster - Ordo - Killed by Werewolves, Night 4
TGWBS - Hat Maker - Ordo - Shot by the Village, Day 4
Gurthang - Rancher - Ordo- Killed by Werewolves, Night 5