Ayshela

Not knowing the roles *was* a point of mild frustration, mostly in the way of trying to plan posts and do any sort of character development. Granting that the possibility *always* exists that any of us won't have a tomorrow left to post in, knowing there are two or three wolves left so the game itself will definitely be running through the next location leaves a bit more "think time" for major postings than spending half the time wondering if we'll even get there and spinning around "I wanted to deal with this facet, but there's really not place for that here, but if I don't now then can I?"... it's easy enough to set everything aside for a wolf-kill, because character development is by definition cut short by that. Lynchings create their own opportunities for development. Some of it, though, is dependent on location (especially in a story like this), and it was a minor detraction to have to *always* weigh in whether or not the game itself would continue to another point. for a second game - sure, if you're modding it I'm in!

YAY!!! *happydances with Sweet* =)

Lavender mountains, far in the distance, slowly melt down to rolling hills of green and gold, dotted here and there with scrubby trees and sprawling heather which reflects the mountains in small purple flowers. The valleys between are sparsely populated by sheep and "wild" cattle, gentle and aimless as they meander between the hills yet never quite spreading onto the plains. Green and gold stretches from the hills onto the plains, a wind-rippled grassland which looks like flowing silk yet hints of secrets to those walking through the bobbing heads of grasses and grains which gossip with the breezes, could one but hear them clearly.

has this one closed out for submission? ("bumping" even though pinned since there's no public response so it's likely to have been missed by people in finals...)

crumpet

oooooooh, now that sounds like fun! sign up open for five days, so you're closing it on the fifth? sixth? (since that makes a difference for *me*, as I'll be gone the sixth and seventh)

Sounds interesting! Well explained, though I'm sure other questions will come up as things develop. Do you have a limit to the characters, or are you accepting "alternates" as sign-up allows? Character: Name: Catherine "Cat" Barnes Sex: Female Age: 29 Basic appearance: Slightly plump and self-conscious caucasian woman with bright (probably dyed) red hair, always well groomed though casually dressed. Background: Cat graduated in the top half of her high school class, which fortunately didn't require spectacular performance - for the most part. She married her high school sweetheart, but after they had two children he decided other women were more interesting. She's now divorced, ferociously protective of her eight and six year old daughters, and reluctant to serve for jury duty because that means her girls will have to stay with their father (since the day care she uses while working as Bakery Manager at the local supermarket cannot keep them overnight).

waiting

Ayshela wandered by, looking over the booths and catching her breath between things. Seeing CheerMynx smiling so widely immediately caught her attention, and reading the sign raised a hint of apprehension. Careful scrutiny of the booth revealed no catapult, and as a ground level booth a trap-door was unlikely, so... hmm. With a wry smile, Ayshela remembered her tumbling training and stepped up quickly to pay her geld and get in line before the UNwary should arrive.

Linador grabbed Seothen and, with Garnorn's help, dragged him back within the door. His words were barely recognizable, though few could be picked out from traffic through Elrond's house over the many years Linador had been there. As Seothen died, Eomer bowed his head and, with a deep sigh, closed Seothen's eyes. Linador looked up, seeing only Baelestimah and Garnorn left with him, of their entire company. With a small nod of reassurance to Baelestimah, he said only, "At last, I know." Orc cries broke upon their ears again as once more waves of attackers charged. Linador spun and ran for the stairs, cursing the lack of his kindred bowmen to hold the orcs at bay. Finding a gap in the defense at the top of the wall he took his place and bow in one motion, determined to make every arrow count. OOC: Vote for Panther/Garnorn. Will try to get back on to post again, but it's kinda nuts here ATM.

O...MG... I have NEVER survived to the end of the game before. Did I miss an alert that the world is ending this weekend??? O_o

ride

lily

*laughs* I meant Tanny killing US off, but hey, if she killed off the Mod I guess we'd have to go to war with ourselves on the spot to make SURE we caught the last wolf, eh? Anyone up for a rousing game of "Last Man Standing"???

*stifles a moment of near hysteria* gah... sometimes I hate coming in and using my system right after the kids do... browser crashed right after I hit "Add reply" and I thought I'd lost the whole thing... *doing my part to keep Tanny from killing us all herself*

Linador sighed in pleasure at being mounted once again. While the shared care of Warud and Horse-Brother had been sufficient to keep at bay the pangs of being so far away from his stables and horses, not knowing how long they would be gone made the drifting whispers of longing that much deeper a pull at heartstrings. It had taken mere moments for horse and rider to begin to adjust, each in comfort and trust in the other. That left Linador time to think. Time was precious, that grew increasingly clear, but careful thought was equally clearly necessary. What of Gandalf's errands, and disturbing news? His appearance just now was fortuitous, bringing news which would influence their path and hopefully aid their quest. The grasslands flowed by beneath them, seeming a river of rippling silk beneath pounding hooves. Linador paid little attention to the path Gandalf chose, trusting his horse to follow Shadowfax and Gandalf to lead them truly. His thoughts flowed less smoothly than their surroundings, darting about from point to point of their journey thus far, where they rode to now and the likely reception there (which might not be all he would hope for from those who loved horses as much as he), where they had yet to travel, and how they might accomplish their goal as their numbers dwindled steadily. Irvin - Linador's thoughts clanged to a stop and he stiffened so quickly his mount swerved in response. Irvin had always been quiet, among their party. He had spoken little, and only at need. Now he lay dead, where no risk should have stood, assailed by a stealthy hand - or foot? Who could have pushed him over, unseen, with everyone nearby? They'd all been watching the shadow in the forest, but an obvious push would certainly have been noticed. Yet how much would it take to disturb his balance, standing at the edge as he had been? Perhaps a subtle kick to put one foot over? Possible, and who better to know a hobbit's balance and how to disturb it than another hobbit? But why? And yet, hadn't he already considered whether one of them had led the orcs to lay the trap which took Turin? Irvin spoke only at need, that much was known to be true. Would that need have extended to telling the rest of the party of what the orcs learned, and from whom? Linador forced his roiling thoughts and churning emotions to subside, his mount calming and settling back into a smooth gallop as he did so. There would be time enough for questions later. Now, all they could do was travel, and in a manner he usually enjoyed. Enjoyment would be little enough on this journey, best to accept what was offered and leave until later what could not be resolved now. He spoke softly to his mount, stroking the beautiful animal's graceful neck, then settled in to wondering thoughts of Shadowfax - how marvelously different he was, where he had come from and how he came to be as he was, how he'd bonded to Gandalf, and how came the other horses with him. These were far more pleasant considerations, if one must have questions with no answers. And they rode on, Shadowfax unerringly leading them through fen and hollow, the silken grasslands stretching out behind. OOC: a hesitant vote for Finnius/Filk, to keep Tanny from killing us herself.

destruction

Ayshela and Kaitlyn stealthily follow their designated target across the grounds of the Pen Keep, waiting and watching until he steps into the Cabaret Room. With a quick nod to Kaitlyn, Ayshela darts around to come in the back. Once in place, they locate their target and, with a quick wave to each other to time the attack, they POUNCE! Tacklehugging Patrick, one from each side, they giggle gleefully as they spin and land on the floor (carefully cushioned by specially patented GigglePads, of course). HAPPY BIRTHDAY PATRICK!!!

*laughs* though I still think the vote for you was brilliant, yes that does answer the question. =) Thank you! Just wasn't sure if the story would continue on to Mordor once all the wolves were caught (which would be *quite* the extended trip for the survivors) or if there would be an appropriate end point found before then - and Helm's Deep does indeed seem like a good point since that could easily work well for either a villager or wolf win.

fate

This is prime Linador posting space - and of course, this is when I get blindsided by a nauseating migraine. *sigh* I probably won't be able to get to this tonight, but tomorrow is far more open than today was, so will pry loose posting time then, headache or no. One question which has never been answered, to my knowledge (and I admit freely I could have simply missed it, or forgotten)... since this is based on an established story, were you intending for the story to continue beyond the point the last of the wolves has been caught? Or will it end with the last wolf capture, as a normal WW game does? Without knowing any of the roles of the dearly departed, we're rather at a loss for where we're at as far as normal gameplay goes.

Those both sound really neat, Katz. One question on the mansion game - if the players RP their choices directly, not PM them, would the seers have their info PM'd to them, or given in OOC?

Ayshela and Kaitlyn wander by just in time to see Darryl leap after Wyvern. While the "surfing" looks like fun, the fall would be - well, perhaps not less entertaining, but certainly less comfortable! With only a "Shall we?" to Kaitlyn, the two take a brief running start and make a spinning leap, somersaulting onto the cloud behind Stoomp. Stoomp is so distracted by the sight of the tumblers landing behind him that he turns to look, pulling Mynx - and Wyvern - and Darryl - all toward Ayshela and Kaitlyn's cloud. In a peal of giggles, Kaitlyn stretches as far over the edge of their cloud as she can reach, ready to catch Darryl if Wyvern manages to knock him loose. Ayshela, with a small laugh, sits behind Kaitlyn and grabs her ankles to make sure she doesn't fall. And both hope the string doesn't break!

"Whuff" Ayshela groaned a little as she spat feathers from the newt-tail which had just hit her in the mouth. "Not quite as fluffy as sheep, but they may be easier to hang on to!" she laughed. Grabbing one to use as a makeshift shield, she grabbed a second and flung it at Gyr's feet.

RAH!!!!! *tacklehugs Cheyenne* I have MISSED you!!!!! pop in when you can, and I'm really looking forward to life turning loose a little bit for you! =)