[TWG2] The Game Thread

[midgert]

Muhahahahahahahahaha You Are All Eaten

 

[Traxata]

See , I was Innocent !

 

[midgert]

I wasn't i got my revenge for being eaten last time >

 

[Sephiroth]

lol, unlucky eld, and wraith being the blessed one haha that wasnt lucky at all oh dear im so happy *spins on his wheels*

 

[Cookalarcha]

Hmm without my help those wolves would have died!

 

[Sephiroth]

yeah, am sorry all... i did ask if eating ronin was allowed but meh!

 

[Ronin Storm]

You do realise that you lost, Cook?

 

[Sephiroth]

cook probably thought he was a wolf lol.

 

[Ronin Storm]

By the by, if you feel like doing so then feel free to post any PMs you received from me related to TWG2. You might find some amusing or interesting compatibilities.

 

[elDiablo]

I will post my lovely PMs tomorrow.

And now:

"I told you so".

Ahhhhh, warm fuzzy feeling ^____________________^

 

[Cookalarcha]

I didnt loose those wolves are loyal to my trust they wouldnt kill me they would mearly bit me so i could become one of them!

 

[Piacular]

I assume you're talking about the fuzzy feeling in heaven elD, since we strung you up and all .

Victory tastes sweet my friends, and you were all equally yummy!

 

[Wraith]

I think this is the best of the PM's that Ronin sent me. It was the night after you all so mercilessly murdered my poor innocent self

[desc]You watch as the arrow pierces your heart but you realise that your spirit has already left your body. You stand a few feet back and realise that you are dead... and yet this is not the end, not yet.

Gradually, a soft light surrounds you and a sensation of lifting, even flying. You rise high, Havenburg disappearing far below, through the clouds and beyond. The light around you becomes all encompassing 'til finally there is only you and the light and you know you have arrived...

The light remains soft, not blinding, just a gentle, comforting warmth, an absolute stillness that could bring tranquility were the time and mood right. Yet the darkness that has fallen on Havenburg is too fresh for peace to find you yet.

Through the light step three monkeys, climbing nimbly onto three short pedestals you had not noticed before. The monkeys appear dismayed, even angry, and the central one addresses you as if it were an everyday thing for monkeys to talk.

"Fools, they are!" it growls, "Fools too blind to see the darkness that walks amongst them this night. Darkness you might have helped save them from had they given you more time."

The one on the left nods sagely, "Indeed. Gifted, you were, with the only power we had to give. Sadly cut short, sadly unused. Only your fellows could bring your death, and that they brought too quickly."

The one on the right climbs down from its pedestal and comes forward to you, stopping at your feet. This close, you cannot fail to feel the primal energy that runs in its veins. It speaks, voice like rolling thunder, "They could not see their folly and this was our mistake. The power that protected you we shall cast back to protect them as best it is able, to help them see the truth, if only at the last."

With that, its hand reaches inside your chest -- a tickling sensation but not at all painful, though you are dead so perhaps that is no surprise -- and pulls forth a shimmering globe of blue-white light.

"Return to them, for now, good doctor," the centre monkey says. The left continues, "Tell them what you wish." And the right, at your feet, finishes, "We will show them their mistake before the night is done."

With that, the blue-white light in the right-most monkey's hand crackles, all vibrant energy like captured lightning. It draws its arm back and the lightness below you dims, grows dark. You are floating with the clouds above Havenburg, the tiny flicker of torches on the walls just visible from this altitude. Then the monkey casts its arm downwards and the lightning flashes forwards, brilliant in the night sky, jagged impression seered into your consciousness. The bolt strikes the great oak in the centre of the town square, then ripples outwards across the town. More lightning falls, and rain with it, but the one true strike, the energy that designed it, continues to dance all round the town.

Somehow, you know that only you can see this energy, delivered in the storm. The specifics? The monkeys say nothing more and turn away and even as they do so, you begin to float back down, but you know for certain the world below is changed... for the better, one hopes.[/desc]

Not that anyone else has any way to verify this but you were the Blessed One before the town killed you in their ignorance.

Claim this, if you like, or not if you'd prefer. I'm taking this juncture to tweak reality a bit to reinclude a feature of elDialbo's variant: truth on death.

Sucks you were killed out so early for being vocal!

Couldn't quite believe that you'd all think I'd be that obvious if I were a wolf, but I guess I was wrong.

 

[Tetsuo_Shima]

Thanks a lot for the game, Ronin! As far as wolfy wolf sniffing out was concerned, I'm in the same boat as elD - we all bloody told you so! However, it was good whilst it lasted. See you next game, chaps!

 

[thatbloke]

*ahem* told you so *ahem*

 

[elDiablo]

Nice post! Turns out that I'm a bit of a neatness freak when it comes to PMs (as I only have space for 50 ), and deleted all of mine If you still have them, Ronin, please feel free to post them! They were pretty awesome descriptions of what everyone was doing!

 

[Ronin Storm]

Dreams for the Seer...

Night 1, dreaming of Piacular:

[desc]You are warm despite the chill night air as you rise from your bed. You do not dress and somehow you know that is the way it must be. Drawn out into the streets, you stick to the darkness, the shadows, ever watchful for danger. Moving inwards, onwards, you feel drawn towards the home of the Mayor without truly being able to say why. Quietly, almost silent, your footsteps move you closer, ever closer.

A tang, on the air, of boot polish and oiled steel. Rustling, metal on leather, the faint rasp of breathing. Somehow you knew you'd find them here. Three men, dressed in Night Watch livery, their Captain in the midst. Your vision sharp, enhanced, you know what you must do.

The time is right, your actions are without hesitation, perfectly coordinated in a rush of incredible motion! But the Captain is swift, much more dangerous than you might have believed, and his blade leaps into his hand. A cut in your flank, blood flows freely, but your hands make short work of his arms and his blade cannot truly hurt you. Defiant, courageous, even as you snuff out his life, tear his heart from his chest, he dies knowing he fought well. And you hate him for it.

And you wake, screaming. It was not you. You did not do it. But your dream of Piacular, the evil Wolf is undeniable in its truth. You have discovered your first wolf, but can you convince the townspeople of the truth of it?[/desc]

Night 2, dreaming of thatbloke:

[desc]Your bed is comfortable, pillows downy and sheets soft, yet you feel uncomfortable. A heavy weight rests on your shoulders and while you so desperately need to sleep you find you cannot. A great storm rages outside your window, rattling the shutters violently, almost as if it directs its fury straight at you, unabated throughout the night.

If only there was some way you could know Doctor Wraith's true nature... if only some way... but you acted as you knew you must, stood by your conviction, worked to defend the town from the impending darkness.

The violence outside lessens not a jot but sleep sneaks up on you, a silent assassin destined to catch you in the end. Your dreams are filled with images, both light and dark, of three monkeys, of flying, of townspeople working in the dark to rescue supplies from the storm and of three stalking shadows, fangs and claws, prowling through the night.

And somehow you know these dreams are true, each and every one of them, and destined only to be given to you this once.

You wake with the dawn, surprised at the quiet outside. Perhaps this will be the day that you can bring justice and smite one of those dread beasts while it is vulnerable. Perhaps today...

You wake as yourself, calm, ready. Mayhaps, with the Mayor on your side, you may yet win this battle?[/desc]

Night 3, dreaming of waterproofbob:

[desc]Is there any forgiveness to be found in this life? One could ask oneself that question and never find an answer but you find yourself asking it none-the-less. You lead the charge against the Mayor and turned out to be wrong. What could have lead to such thinking? How could you have done things differently? Mayhaps if you had voted differently, the Mayor would be alive right now, patting you on the back for a job well done...

You feel a pat, on your back... well your shoulder, actually. You glance and see a child's hand tapping you on the shoulder. It strikes you as odd that one of your children should be disturbing you, moreover disturbing you after dark. Still, needs must and the children have always come first.

You turn slowly, so as not to alarm the child. Your eyes follow the arm, looking for the child... but the arm comes to a sudden and ragged end, bloodied and torn. This arm is held by a creature of pure darkness, evil incarnate, and it clearly takes pleasure in the distress this discovery causes you. At least your death follows quickly...

The pain! The incredible pain! You scream yourself awake, and not for the first time, now having experienced death from both sides of this terrifying equation. It is all much too late for the Teacher and soon it may be too late for the town. Can you save them, even at this late hour?[/desc]

Death scenes...

...where they aren't already mostly done above.

Night Watch Captain SgtFury:

[desc]Your two best Night Watch guardsmen with you, you stake out an alley with good sight lines to the Mayor's home. There is only the one approach that these demons can take and if they move on the Mayor then you are certain you can drive them off. Quietly, poised for action, you wait...

A noise! Behind! No time for thought, just pure adrenaline action, you blade leaps into your hands. Dark, deadly shadows converge on your squad from behind and before they have chance to react your comrades are down, demon wolves tearing them limb from limb in a gory spectacle. The middle one, larger than the rest, bears down on you with terrible speed. Your blade flashes forward, your heart and mind as one, striking a blow that would fell a man in one. But this is no man, before you, and it comes on regardless.

Seeing your doom, you stand courageous at the last and look death in the face as bold as you can muster.

And die.[/desc]

Occultist Taffy:

[desc]A storm of incredible violence strikes Havenburg overnight, lightning crashing with frightening regularity and rain pummelling the roof of your store house. Fresh flour, milled that day, remained unstacked in your storeroom and so you resolved to fix that oversight before setting about your more arcane business; after all, a good portion of the town's food is provided by bread from your flour and drowned flour is no use to anyone.

The thunder is almost deafening as you busy yourself with piling the sacks higher, away from the rivulets of rainwater seeking to ruin their contents. Loud, but not so loud that the opening of the storeroom door escapes you. You whirl as huge dark shapes, all fangs and claws and glowing eyes rush forward. There is pain, there is blood, but the last thought that passes through your mind is a hope the blood does not ruin the supplies you have so carefully saved for the townspeople.

Hopefully they appreciate your labour, albeit at your funeral.[/desc]

Some other dreams...

To waterproofbob, Wraith and Tetsuo_Shima, on Night 1:

[desc]You dream of walking in darkness carrying a single candle. You know that if your candle goes out, you are lost, for the monsters that hide just beyond its tiny glare will come for you then. Your hands cup round that candle, shielding it from the night air. But the wind gusts, the candle gutters, goes out. And you realise you are naked, quite literally, as the monsters rush towards you, unseen, unheard...

And you wake screaming. It was just a dream. Just tell yourself it was just a dream.[/desc]

To Tetsuo_Shima and VibroAxe on Night 2:

[desc]Though outside an incredible storm batters the town of Havenburg, you sleep surprisingly soundly. As you sleep, you dream and in that dream a lightness surrounds you, warm and calm, peaceful even.

As you watch and wait in this peaceful lightness, three monkeys step forward and climb onto pedestals but they do not look at you. They speak but you cannot hear them. Another is there but when you try to look and see who that other is you realise that they are the source of the light, so blinding that you cannot see them directly.

One monkey approaches the light, takes hold of it, then throws it downwards and suddenly you feel yourself drawn down with the light, cast down, racing towards the ground, falling... falling...

And you wake. It is dawn and the storm has broken.[/desc]

...

 

[Taffy]

*Cough* told you *Cough*. I think we have all learnt a valuable lesson here...listen to the welsh over Piacular!

A storm of incredible violence strikes Havenburg overnight, lightning crashing with frightening regularity and rain pummelling the roof of your store house. Fresh flour, milled that day, remained unstacked in your storeroom and so you resolved to fix that oversight before setting about your more arcane business; after all, a good portion of the town's food is provided by bread from your flour and drowned flour is no use to anyone.

The thunder is almost deafening as you busy yourself with piling the sacks higher, away from the rivulets of rainwater seeking to ruin their contents. Loud, but not so loud that the opening of the storeroom door escapes you. You whirl as huge dark shapes, all fangs and claws and glowing eyes rush forward. There is pain, there is blood, but the last thought that passes through your mind is a hope the blood does not ruin the supplies you have so carefully saved for the townspeople.

Hopefully they appreciate your labour, albeit at your funeral.

I liked this story. fitted well with my job.

I think a good old-fashioned Hip Hip Hooray is needed for Ronin here: as far as i'm concerned, he turned this game into a wonderfully constructed work of art. Bravo!

 

[Traxata]

Indeed he did without Ronin's Ingenuity it wouldn't have felt the same

 

[VibroAxe]

Well, i must say that was awsome fun all, thank you muchness to ronin. and I told you so to all the remaining inocents who insisted on killing our wonderfull seer!