Gnarlitch

Albert sits on the bus ride, or at least he tries to. He is soooo excited. This is so keen! He's been invited to this "secret" facility by one of the head scientists to witness secret experiments! Holy cow, batman! And his parents were so proud that he'd been chosen. they offered to, not only pay for his bus ticket, but they even gave him A WHOLE TEN DOLLARS spending money. WOW! :woot:

well, we could always just do a dual lynching as we couldn't be sure who was who! Just kidding

after my death, it was fun haunting Ozy and hearing his take on things and some of his strategies! He was an especially good sport with the haunting. Numerous PM's going oooooooOOOOOOOooooooooOOOoooo and such. I think I like this forum and all the "extra" role play, although I must admit that at times I merely scanned posts for the basic gist of things while trying to stay awake. The last few weeks I've been working a decidedly odd schedule of some days and some nights, never sure which will happen until the day before it actually happens. My wife has been a saint for putting up with it. Anyways, work is back to "normal" now, at least as far as schedule. So, now I can concentrate on games more! :woot: :wizzie:

You guys make me laugh. I'll write part two and post it hopefully tonite (friday). If not, by the end of the weekend.

Er, yes, exciting and all that, but deadly as well. My grandfather had pictures on the wall, a series of four foto's of the very first underground nuclear test. He was also part of the above ground tests and the tests on previously sunken WWII ships in the south pacific. "Oddly" enough, he died from cancer when I was 8 years old. Mmmm, thanks, but that particular setting just doues not thrill me. How about it starting at some sort of science fair, all wandering into the wrong booth at the wrong moment or something... whatever, your story. Have fun with it.

Yes, it is rather "hilarious," maniacly so. *walks away gibbering and frothing at the mouth, his right eye twitching uncontrollably*

well, by saying a man and a woman the first day it was totally RP and playing the odds, considering the gender makeup of the game. But it was totally a W.A.G. really (wild ass guess). I DIDN'T know that Elwen was a wolf the first day. I just chose a person I knew to align myself with and voted against who that person accused. I was totally taking a chance that Nave was a wolf. But, with him voted lynched I viewed Elwen the second night and wallah, a Wolf! :woot: What it came down to, really, was that I was a bit uncomfortable with the setting of this game, never having read any Sherlock Holmes and not being much on the Victorian era. I have yet to read a "classic" from that era that I thought deserved to be a classic. As such, I chose a character that I could make know or do anything...a jack of all trades. Then, on the first day, feeling a bit intimidated by all the legnthy posts and not knowing what to write to join in I kept mostly quiet. Then, the day I joined myself to Nave right before his death, I came up with a plausible story...and I made up alot of facts as I went. Luckily, they all turned out to be true. I have no idea how I pulled that out of thin air. But I left all my suppositions in that first legnthy story vague other than it being a man and a woman working together. Later that "day" I analyzed the three female players and their characters, trying to decide who my character was most likely to suspect in character, and came up with either Lady Emily or the gossipy socialite. Since no one had accused the socialite yet, and Nave looked to be going down for accusing Emily, I tried to "save" him by voting with him. The day after, finally knowing that Elwen was guilty, I felt the need to roleplay how my char would react to witnessing her murder someone but being unable to stop it because it was in a dream. hence, the shotgun accusation at breakfast. The rest is pretty much history. When Eyremon claimed to be the baneer, however, I pm'ed him, proposing a strategy to expose the other wolf as quickly as possible. I sugested he bane one suspect and I view another (Marcus) and we see what happened. But he pm'ed me back saying it was all a distraction, trying to save both the seer and baneer. So, instead of following my gut instinct I viewed Degenero, whom I had wanted Eyremon to bane. Oops. Then, the next day Ozy/Marcus acted so friendly that I was distracted from accusing him and or viewing him the next night, which is when I died anyways. Tanny was nice enough to let me have my vision before dying, and then also to see the face of my killer...who I have been haunting and chatting with ever since. *shrugs* Any other questions?

The night was quiet as he walked through the army's encampment, at least as quiet as it can be when surrounded by thousands of armed men and horses. His breath seamed in the cool night air, a strange contrast to the oven-like heat generated in these hill at mid-day. Not a single guard challenged him as he walked, none dared. His face and sigil both were recognized by all here. Some still showed some faint friendliness in their recognition, as a nod in passing. Yet none broke the silence and none were too overt in their silent greetings, hoping to avoid the taint of treason, no doubt. Treason. His entire adult life, and much of his teenage years also, had been spent in service to his king and country. He had forsaken all else in his service. He had no land to till, no wife to kiss, and no children to hold. If he died this day he had no son to carry on his family name, yet, none would regret the lack there of. He gritted his teeth as he passed men he had trained with, fought with, might die with, and yet they did their utmost to pretend he was not there. He was already dead to these soldiers, no matter that he walked among them still with breath in his body and blood in his veins. If it weren't for his vows he would leave them to rot in Hell. Upon reaching his own encampment the reception became somewhat less chilly although still strained. He found a paige and ordered a meeting of all senior officers in his tent immediately and was respectfully told that they were already there awaiting his pleasure. He grunted in response to this news, unsurprized yet oddly touched. Before entering the tent he paused to clear his mind and wipe away the unaccustomed dampness in his eyes. Attention to order! All hail the General! "At ease, men. *pauses to wait for the officers to return to their seats and pretends not to notice that more than two-thirds of those seats remain empty* As you know I have just met with Lord Talhert. The Iron Legion is ordered disbanded forth with, as rumored. Also, as rumored, those wishing to profess their loyalty to the crown are "encouraged" to swear the new oaths and join the regular army." *pause for general grumbles* "Lord Talhert gives his word that each and every man who swears the oaths will be treated cordially and without prejudice as long as he displays loyalty to the Council and its authority..." "The Council's authority? The Council has stripped the Crown of almost all authority when it is most needed and now they demand we swear allegiance to them instead of the King?!" "AT EASE, LIEUTENANT! We will have none of that here. We have a duty, whether or not the Council sees it as such or no. That duty is to the King and His heir. I would urge each of you to take the wiser course, swear the new oaths, and protect the Crown as best you may. I have not been allowed that option. DISMISSED!" Many voices shout for further explanation as he walks back out of the tent, lost once again in his own thoughts. Stepping into his private chambers, he finds that his squire has also anticipated the needs of the moment. Quickly and wordlessly they strap him into his armor. It is not the usual ornate heavy plate his rank is entitled to. Instead he dons a plain and battered steel breastplate over unadorned chain and leather. The only ornamentation is his sigil emblazoned on his shield; a dark grey gauntleted fist on a forest green field with one silver star placed directly above the fist. Over his armor he straps a pair of longswords across his back and places a dagger at his belt. Then, hefting a heavy spear with his personal banner attached near the head, he walks from the tent. The pre-dawn light finds him alone well in advance of so called "friendly" lines. He picks a spot near the center of the narrow canyon where some long ago cataclysm has deposited a jumble of large rocks. He plants the but of his spear into the ground so that it will stand on its own, leaving his banner to flutter slightly in the almost non-existent breeze. Here is where he will meet the enemy charge, and, hopefully, redeem his honor before he dies. Then, there in the swirling morning mist he kneels and prays to the God of his Fathers. I will end the story here for now, as 1) it seems a fitting place to stop, and 2) distractions abound and I will not beable to give the story justice if I continue at this moment.

Nothing in life worth having is ever easy.

er...actually, malhumorada is more accurately bad tempered, not evil. But I like the song/poem though. As a pet to various cats, it most definitely fits.

lightening crashes, thunder roars, and the creepy, intense music intensifies and gets louder!

Apparently my haunting worked! :woot: :wizzie:

as far as question #1. that would be unusual, usually the wolves plan with eachother at least somewhat, etc. #2. Normally the seer would know that they had just seen the baneer, but the mod can modify the rules as he or she sees fit for a game as long as they are clear before the game starts. #3. And, yes, usually roles are selected randomly, so any "suspicious" looking character can be completely innocent, at least OOC. IC suspicious or notionally evil chars tend to be the first suspected and lynched, which is why when I mod a game the supposedly evil characters are almost never the wolf. Of course, my answers are nominally my opinion and what is usual for games on the Kenzer boards, not necessarily what has been done here or what this specific mod has in mind. Also, there was the supposition made that the wolves almost NEVER win. Not neccessarily so. In a period of around 7 or 8 games at Kenzerco, the wolves won every time. It took forming coalitions by pm to stop the wolves. Of course, part of that was how much the game and players had evolved over time, taking normally devious RPG'ers and training them to be even more devious and sneaky. Recently, it has been awhile since the wolves have won, which has mostly been either bad luck on the wolves part or mistakes made in giving themselves away. Plus, in a couple of the games the seers and baneer got VERY lucky in finding eachother quickly and forming a coalition.

*thinks to self...."Hmmm, alien frogs...where have I read something about those before? Must do research!"*

(jut realized I posted this in the wrong thread, so am moving it here) ok, I'm the teenage science nerd that totally beleives in aliens and stuff. Oh, they are so cool! In this month's "Science Digest," Ray Bradbury explains all about life on Mars and what it is that makes Martians "little green men" instead of normal like us! Next month will be all about how life is able to exist on Jupiter even with the non-stop rain! I'm just so excited I can hardly wait! Here, look at this. It's an article I'm writing for "Science Digest" myself! I sure hope they like it and will publish it. I hear that is the first important step to becoming an honest tongoodness science fiction writer! OOC: Whew! Gotta stop and catch my breath there. This kid can go on forever! Anyways...I'm in! Oh, and a name....Albert E. Milhouse, and yes, the "E" does stand for Einstien!

killllll....... avenge meeeeeee......... eeeeeeeeee vvvvvvvil musssssssssssst die! :dragon4:

Wil's ghost laughs maniacly as he realizes that the assassin has just made a HUGE error in judgement in killing the person everyone else was the most suspicious of! He cackles with glee and sits back and waits for justice to be served! :woot: :wizzie: :yuitongue:

Wil follows the assassin around all night, trying desperately to stop his evil deeds and protect the few who remain living....

Elwen's ghostly head then tumbles to the floor, soon followed by her upper and lower halves that also seem to have "parted ways." After Wil and Sir Alfred both sheath their swords, Wil then summons his "friend" Lanfear and has her put Elwen's essence into a coursova for him. He then has fun letting his cat bat the nifty ball around the floor!

Wil follows his killer around all day, spooking him when alone with him, trying to attract attention to him when in the presence of others. Upon encountering one of the other ghosts now haunting the manor who are now cheering for thier killers, Wil does all he can to banish the traitors from their midst. Sir Alfred he stabs through the heart with the spectral image of his own sword, causing him to flee in anguish. Norfolk he locks in the wine cellar. Maybe his hauntings there will cause the living to abstain from that practice. Vinny he simply distracts with a lovely catalogue of beakers and such and sends him scurrying off to check out the factory. Mr. Vahktang he simply intimidates into aquiesence. The "Lady" Emily, however, he has something "special" planned for. Her he chains in a closet, waiting for just the right moment..... OOC: no, this does not mean I am truly trying to get the other "ghosts" to go away....just teasing them for rooting for the OTHER side.

In the morning Wil descends the tower stair, wondering why he is still alive and who has died in his place. He wanders into the kitchen for breakfast and sees his freind Ed. Wil Hey Ed! Did anyone die last night? Ed *to Ms. Horton, completely ignoring Wil* It is so sad and horrible. We saved each other's lives more than once in the Sudan before Wil was so greiviously wounded he was sent home. I regret that I stayed as lond as I did, even after my duty was done. Ms. Christie *to Ed, also ignoring Wil* Yes, his death was tragic, but honorable, possibly even heroic. Is there any clue whatsoever as to who killed him? Ed A smeared bloody hand print on the silver tray his heart was on, and a few drops of blood in the hallway, but that's it. Holmes and Watson are analyzing the blood samples now, hoping to be able to match it to one of the survivors. Wil HEY! WHO DIED?! Ed and Ms. Horton continue their conversation with Wil getting more and more peeved that they are ignoring him. Finally he walks away in a huff and is then startled to realize that he has just walked THROUGH the table. Wil ! I must be the one who died! Suddenly the entire scene returns to him, most especially the fact that as he was lying there on the roof top in a spreading pool of his own blood, that damned assassin had began cutting him open. The shock of the memory of watching his still beating heart being pulled from his chest sends him fleeing. Later, after he has calmed down a bit, he forces himself to block out everything about last night, except for one thing...the face of the assassin and his look of ecstacy at Wil's demise. With that face etched into his....brain...*shrug* Wil begins his quest for Justice...with a decent sized helping of revenge. LET THE HAUNTING BEGIN!

Meanwhile, at the lower doorway to the tower, Katherine sleeps peacefully and unaware that death has passed her by. Death was not unaware of her presence for he left a caliing card sitting on the side table next to her. It is the ornate tray from a silver tea service. Laying on it, instead of the tea service, however, is a fresh human heart...Wil's heart as a matter of fact. When she finally wakes, she wakes screaming in horror, rousing the entire house. OOC: Just had to add that side note in as the Assassin requested a silver tray as the weapon of death and I had already written the previous story. So...

OOC As a gift to Wil's courage in revealing his Seeing ability to be able to get a Werewolf, even at the cost of his own life, I asked Gnarlitch to write his death scene. We hope you enjoy the change. ~Tanny Once Wil arrived at his intended location, the wind-swept top of the northern tower, he paused for some moments in silent contemplation of his situation. He knew his end was nigh, and yet, he felt no fear, at least for himself. He had been given a gift to be used to help serve and protect his fellow beings, and he had done the best he could. However, at this moment more than at any other time in his life, he felt that his best had not been sufficient. With this thought, he knelt down for prayer. Some time later, in the dead of night, still he was alone atop the tower. Mayhaps he had chosen this site too well and the assassin had decided to find easier prey this night. There was only one entrance onto this tower, through a trap door set into the tower roof. that is, one entrance unless one could either fly like a bird or climb like a spider. In his time he had known one or two men who might have made that climb in daylight with the proper equipment, but none who could have done it on a windy night such as this. And still he waited.... Sometime in the small hours of the morning, not long before the sun would peek above the lovely mountains to the east, he heard a faint scraping noise and shook himself back to full alertness. Standing before him was a shadowed form, the face hidden in the deep recesses of a shadowy cowl. Wil *standing up and drawing his sword* At last you come. I was beginning to suspect you were afraid. ??? I? Afraid of YOU? Surely you jest. Wil You should be afraid, cowering cur that you are. Sneak theif and back-stabber, unable to face a man in honest combat. ??? Trying to make me kill you quickly? No matter, quick or slow, you shall die this night, and tomorrow I shall kill again, and again after that. Wil But me first. ??? Yes, you first. But I see that there is something you want from me first. Speak up man. What is it? Wil I have just one question. Why? ??? Why what? Why you? You already... Wil NO! Not why me. That is obvious. No. Why here? Why now? What makes you chose this time and place for your evil plots? Is it revenge? Money? Love? ??? You might say love had something to do with it, and hate. Money as well as I am to be paid handsomely for all of this. But, it all comes down to one simple thing. Fame. I am to be the man to kill the famous Sherlock Holmes. Wil All of these lives wasted simply to draw Holmes here so you could kill him? ??? Yes. We knew he would come here to investigate the murders of his so called friends. The wretch has been after our Order for some time now. He has gotten too close on more than one occasion. So, it was decided that it was time for action. The time and location were selected for the greatest impact. Also, out here in the country with no witnesses to speak of, we could write the story to suit our needs. Wil But first you have to get by me. And I shan't roll over just because your bloody Order wishes it. ??? I would have been disappointed otherwise. Shall we? Wil Let us dance then, you and I. With that the assassin cast off his heavy cloak and drew his own sword. Then began the dance of steel. The music was that of fine Toledo made steel meeting the finest steel of the British Empire. The blades flashed in the moonlight as they lunged and parried, thrust and reposte. Wil, never more than an adequate swordsman, knew he was facing a master. As such he wondered how he had survived this long. Was the assassin toying with him? After he over-extended himself and left himself wide for a counter-attack that never came, he was sure of it. Wil What game is this we play? Am I a mouse for you to toy with? ??? My my my, finally you catch on. Shall I end my little charade? Wil Finish it and be damned! With that the assassin attacked with as yet unseen fury and skill. Soon Wil was bleeding form a dozen minor scratches, and at least one major cut. He barely avoided being skewered by tripping over his own feet and almost falling off the edge of the tower. Next, he received a cut to his forearm making it impossible for him to hold his sword. Yet his adversary stopped and waited for him to regain his sword and prepare to use his other hand. It was hopeless. Then, he remembered one lesson his banner sergeant had tries to tell him at one time..."Every man must choose for himself when it is time to sheath the sword." He had thought the man half-mad at the time, but now he understood. Sometimes the goal was more important than ones own life. At that time you must do what is necessary.... As the assassin left the top of the tower he looked back and shook his head. Why had that crazy bastard attacked in that manner? Sure, he had drawn blood for the first time, but only a minor wound at the cost of his own death. Walking away, he held a handkerchief to his side to staunch the bleeding. It wouldn't do to leave the detectives a trail to follow back to his rooms. Meanwhile, back on the roof, Wil lay dead in a spreading pool of his own blood but with a smile on his face..... OOC Wil/Gnarlitch was the Seer. It's day phase! You have48 hours, or as soon as I get all votes, to investigate one more murder and pick your suspect to present to Mr.Holmes. ~~Tanny

I like the competing wolves idea. It could work in any size of group, really, but bigger would be better. It would be sort of a last man standing sort of thing. The wolves could even choose to kill off one another, as, in this instance, thay wouldn't know who eachother was. It could make for a very quick game though. :dragon4:

Resigned, Wil walks back to his room in silence. He is gone for just long enough for everyone to begin to speculate what he is doing when he returns carrying not the expected shotgun, but a sword. And not just any sword, but the silvered cavalry saber once belonging to Sir Alfred. He has also donned his old army uniform, with full honors, including his Order of Merit. Wil *looking at the sword* I seem ta 'ave lost mine in the Sudan. This one belonged to his lordship, Sir Alfred. They killed him and likely I'm next. Mayhaps 'is sword 'll help me tho'. *looks each man in the eye in turn* Iff'n ya wants me I'll be waiting fer yez atop the north tower.