Werewolf IX: the Saga Owns You and You Know It

[Encaitare]

Hail and welcome to the latest [and, hopefully, greatest] village of horrors. This is the village of Swankytown, all but a ghost town ever since the exodus of villagers with broader horizons, whom most people would probably dub “the smart ones”. And we shall see that they were indeed smart to get away, before the accursed Werecreatures fell upon the unsuspecting, provincial little village…

For this is Tol-in-Gaurhoth IX! (Or 9, if you prefer.)

The game shall be run thusly:

DAY and NIGHT shall be 24 hours in length, and 24 hours in length shall be the NIGHT and DAY. During the DAY, Villagers will vote for one of their number to lynch. During the NIGHT, Werewolves and Beorning will each choose a hapless victim to slay.

I, your humble Moderator, dwell upon the Eastern shore of the nation called the USA, and so I shall refer to the times in Eastern Standard Time. In EST, the DAY and NIGHT shall begin, alternately, at approximately 7:30 PM. For the ease of those in other time zones (and to save you from having to do any mathematics), you can simply refer to the time on my posts, translated into whatever your local time is.

The game shall end when either the three Wolves and the Beorning are killed, or when the Wolf to Villager ratio is equal. Let us hope that it does not come to this, O Swankytowners!

Remember to stay invisible!

~*~*~*~*~

The roles in the village of Swankyton are as follows:

Ordinary Villagers: The so-called “ordos” shall converse during the DAY and vote for someone to lynch. Hopefully, they can hold their own against the evil creatures.

Werewolves: Wolves communicate at NIGHT and only at NIGHT to choose one victim, and then PM their choice to the Mod. The clever fiends do their best to evade suspicion during the DAY.

Black Beorning: The Beorning turns into a bear and chooses one victim per NIGHT to kill. This player wins if s/he is the ONLY surviving Villager.

Hunter: The Hunter makes a choice of another Villager each NIGHT to take down with him if s/he is slain or lynched.

Ranger: The Ranger chooses one Villager each NIGHT to protect from Wolf attacks. S/he cannot protect against Bear attacks.

Seer: The Seer chooses one Villager each NIGHT to dream about. It shall then be revealed to the Seer who/what that Villager is. The exception is the Cobbler, who appears to be an Ordo.

Cobbler: The Cobbler despises his/her pitiful existence. S/he wants you all to die, and the Wolves or Bear to win. (You all must have ostracized the poor Cobbler to Sammath Naur and back to make him/her so bitter!) S/he will do anything within his/her limited power to confuse the Villagers and so ensure a Werewolf victory, including letting him/herself be lynched. S/he does not know who the Wolves are. The Cobbler appears to be an innocent villager to the Seer.

Shirriffs: The Shirriffs go back a long way, and therefore know that each other is innocent. They PM by DAY to discuss strategies and suspicions. There are two Shirriffs.

~*~*~*~*~

Other stuff:

Votes are irrevocable, and must be cast like this:

++ENCAITARE

Multiple lynching is allowed, but remember that it is a strategy which should be used sparingly, if at all.

Let us know if you will be absent by posting on the original Tol-in-Gaurhoth thread. Otherwise, please refrain from posting on that thread, whether you are dead or not.

~*~*~*~*~

These are our players (I have made up occupations for a couple of people who did not give one):

1. Folwren - blacksmith
2. Shelob - student of the Ancient and Long-Dead Gadian Language; a llama famer on the side
3. Holbytlass - seller of "zoo-doo" fertilizer
4. the guy who be short - politician
5. Meneltarmacil - zookeeper
6. WaynetheGoblin - dentist
7. wilwarin538 - tailor
8. Alcarillo - mayor
9. Durelin - Mistress of 1337
10. Saucepan Man - mushroom harvester
11. Kath - gardener
12. the phantom - apothecary
13. Azaelia of Willowbottom - flower-selling lass
14. Cailín - constant crocheter
15. Nilpaurion Felagund – irritatingly deep-thinking philosopher
16. Kitanna – cable tech (aka the obligatory anachronism)
17. mormegil - merchant
18. Gil-Galad - lawyer, has a pet bird
19. SamwiseGamgee - philosophical badger farmer
20. Glirdan - cheese seller
21. Bergil - very bad carpenter

And I, Encaitare the aspiring writer.

There are:

3 Werewolves
2 Shirriffs (who may reveal themselves if they deem the time to be right)
1 Black Beorning
1 Cobbler
1 Seer
1 Hunter
1 Ranger
11 Ordinary Villagers

It is now NIGHT one. DAY one will commence in 24 hours. I've already got a name from our Seer, so no worries about that. Wolves may PM; Shirriffs may not.

[Encaitare]

A pale sun rose over the near-abandoned village of Swankytown. An eerie mist had descended, settling upon the rooftops and making the villagers, who were just getting out of bed, feel vaguely uneasy and wonder if maybe they ought to go back to sleep. The village square was abandoned in the morning’s early hours; a tumbleweed rolled halfway across it before realizing that this was not the Old West.

Gradually, the villagers left their homes, opening their dilapidated shops and socializing in the square.

WaynetheGoblin admired his new dental tools, including a wicked-looking pair of tongs that Folwren had forged for him.

With a sly nod, The Saucepan Man sold some ‘medicinal’ mushrooms to the phantom.

“600|) |\/|0|2|\|!|\|6,” Durelin said to Shelob. “’Tai,” Shelob responded. Neither understood a word the other said.

Glirdan fed a piece of cheese to Gil-Galad’s pet bird; the bird’s beak got stuck and Gil threatened to press charges.

Holbytlass tried to sell some of her “zoo-doo” to Kath at the same time that Azaelia of Willowbottom tried to sell Kath some flowers. “I’m a gardener!” Kath admonished. “I’ve plenty of my own flowers!”

Azaelia had more luck with Wilwarin538, who bought a carnation to place in the buttonhole of a suit she’d just finished.

Alcarillo and the guy who be short glared at each other from opposite sides of the street, trying very hard not to blink. Cailin kindly crocheted some blindfolds so they wouldn't have to look at each other.

Meneltarmacil eyed the lopsided animal cages Bergil had made, and wondered if they’d hold much longer.

Nilpaurion Felagund tried to philosophize with Kitanna, but she was too confused by the lack of TVs to repair to listen to him.

And Mormegil was doing whatever it is that merchants do early in the morning.

But by ten o’clock they realized that one of their number was absent. Where was Encaitare, the writer?

“She said she’d let me read the first draft of that novel of hers this morning,” one of them said.

“I bet she got caught up in her bizarre stories and forgot she had an appointment,” another suggested. “Let’s go snap her out of it.”

They all decided to go down to her house and see if everything was alright – they really had nothing better to do, anyway. Plus, there had been mysterious howling almost every night for the past week from the woods which bordered Swankytown.

Encaitare’s home was silent, but they found that the door was unlocked. They let themselves in.

Inside, a gruesome sight accosted their eyes. Encaitare was on the floor, impaled all over with her quill pens, which through a display of capillary action which would have impressed any geek, were stained with her blood halfway up their length. Several pages from her manuscript lay scattered around her body; one was pinned to her chest with a particularly large quill. Gingerly, one of the villagers removed it – the words were written in browned blood. The villager read it aloud:

Dear Village of Swankytown,
Looks like Encaitare’s tale has come to its conclusion. Don’t get too upset over the manuscript. It was pretty lousy.
Signed,
The Werewolves

The villagers were horrified, so they hurried out of the house. Next door was Kath’s home, and they noticed that her side garden was looking oddly trampled.

“My magnolias!” Kath cried. “My petunias! My sweet honeysuckles! They’ve been squashed!” She peered at the curious footprints.

“What could have made those huge prints?” the villagers wondered. They followed the tracks to Shelob’s house, where they nearly tripped over a mutilated llama.

Thunder crashed as Shelob looked at her fallen pet in disbelief. Rain began to pour. She dropped to her knees and raised her face to the sky, arms outstretched. She shrieked something in the Ancient and Long-Dead Gadian Language: “Jeeeyyyyyyyy!!!!! Ved ko???”

“Huh?” the villagers asked, miffed that they were both getting very wet and ignorant as to what she was saying.

“Noooooo!!!” Shelob translated. “Why? Why?”

“It’s a bear!” they realized. “There’s a bear on the loose, too!”

“Whyyyyyy???????” Shelob continued to moan.

“Because,” they grumbled. “Forget the stupid llama. Let’s get to finding these horrid werecreatures.”

~*~*~*~*~

The Deceased:

Encaitare (Moderator) - Stuck full of quills by Wolves on NIGHT 1
Llama (Mammal) - Mauled into oblivion by Black Beorning on NIGHT 1

It is now DAY 1. Werewolves may not PM; Shirriffs may. 24 hours until NIGHT falls, so use the hours well: start talkin'!

[Reminder: don't edit your posts more than to correct little things like spelling or bolding names. If you have something more to say, don't be afraid to double-post.]

[mormegil]

I've just the things for this situation. I've just aquired recently some charms that are sure to keep away those pesky Were creatures. Now that demand has gone up due to recent events I would like to double the price. If charms are not your thing I've got enough weapons to help defend yourself. Let me know what you want and it's yours.

[Alcarillo]

Alas! My poor village of Swankytown is infested by werewolves! If re-elected I promise to take measures that will ensure that such a tragedy will never happen again in our village. Maybe I should outlaw pointy quills.

And remember to re-elect me, Alcarillo, as mayor of Swankytown!

[Holbytlass]

What a shame, Enca wasn't much a customer but she and her stories will be missed, especially the scandals about the politicians. And that poor llama, one less supplier for my business.

[Alcarillo]

Originally Posted by Holbytlass

especially the scandals about the politicians.

Pure lies. Except for those about tgwbs.

[WaynetheGoblin]

My teeth will never be the same now that we lost someone.

[Azaelia of Willowbottom]

What a terrible loss...Enca was always happy to buy a flower or two from me, no matter how wilted they were.