Werewolf IIX - Tra la la lally, here down in the Saga, ha ha!

[Oddwen]

Our Village. Our unexpected sorrow. Here and lynched again. And what happened after.
Adventures of Twenty Villagers. The tale of the Werewolves, compiled by Various Villagers from their own observations and the accounts of their friends. What we did with the Black Beorning.

The hoped for Downfall
of the
Werewolves
and the
Return of the Cobbler

(as seen by the Villagers; being the memoirs of Members of the Barrowdowns, supplemented by the accounts of the Mods and the learning of the Admins.)

Together with extracts of various entertainments.

-------------------------

Welcome to Barrowdowns Werewolf, Version 8.0.
Rules are as set forth in the seven previous versions.

DAY and NIGHT shall be 24 hours in length. During the DAY, Villagers will choose one or more of their fellows whom they suspect to be beastly to lynch. During the NIGHT, Werewolves and Beorning will each choose one victim to slay.

Game ends when either all the Wolves and the Beorning are killed, or when the Wolf to Villager ratio is equal. In which case, I pity your poor hides.

DAYS end and NIGHTS begin at 12:00 Noon GMT. Or you can look at the time on the Moderator's post and count 24 hours from then.

Please keep your One Ring firmly on your finger during the remainder of the game. (Please stay invisible)

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Roles in this Village are:

Ordinary Villagers: Ords work during the DAY to make sure there are no more marauders by NIGHT. The usual method is killing one of their own.

Werewolves: Wolves communicate at NIGHT and only at NIGHT to choose one victim, and then PM their choice to the Mod. They can then stir up speculation during the DAY and snicker behind their furry paws.

Black Beorning: The Beorning turns into a bear and chooses one victim per NIGHT to kill. He could kill a Wolf, or he could kill an Ord. He wins only if he is the ONLY surviving Villager. Wolves and Beorning are not in league.

Hunter: The Hunter makes a choice of another Villager each NIGHT to take down with him if he is Werewolf Fodder or Lynched. Preferably a Beast.

Ranger: The Ranger chooses one Villager each NIGHT to protect from WOLF attacks. He is ineffectual against the Beorning.

Seer: The Seer chooses one Villager each NIGHT to dream about. It is then revealed to them if said Villager is Naughty or Nice.

Cobbler: The Cobbler hates his life so badly that he wants the WOLVES to win. He will do anything within his limited power to confuse the Villagers and so ensure a Werewolf victory, including letting himself be lynched. He does not know who the Wolves are. The Cobbler appears to be an innocent villager to the Seer.

Sherriffs: The Sherriffs are two individuals who know that the other is innocent. They can PM during the DAY, and the DAY only. How they choose to play these cards is up to them.

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Once you're dead, you're dead. Please refrain from posting either here or in the original thread.

Any OOC comments can be taken to the original thread. (Abscences, etc.)

Any game-related questions, please PM me and I will answer in the original thread.

Votes are irretractable, and must be on a seperate line like this:

++ODDWEN

Any aberrance from this rule will be punished with a squeaky hammer to the head and a desultory limerick with their name in it.

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Our list of players is as follows:


1. Alcarillo - Bartender
2. Arcticstorm - Philosopher
3. littlemanpoet of Willowbottom* - Baker
4. Boromir88 - Town Coroner
5. CaptainofDespair - Shrew Farmer
6. Dancing Spawn of Ungoliant - Glass Blower
7. Durelin - Town Feline
8. Encaitare - Splenetic Lamenting Lover
9. Firefoot - Animal Artist
10. Gil-Galad - Garrisoned Soldier, tripling as Town Cryer & Gravekeeper
11. Gurthang - Annoying Animal Rights Activist (AARA)
12. Laitain - Minorly Annoying Minstrel
13. Lalaith - Soothsayer
14. Meneltarmacil - Ye Olde Knighte
15. Mithalwen - Blessed Cheesemaker
16. Mormegil - Alchemist
17. Nonnacedak - Ice Fisherman
18. SamwiseGamgee - Warg Historian
19. Saucepan Man, The - Burly Ex-Miner
20. Wilwarin538 - Butterfly Researcher

There are:

3 Werewolves
2 Sherriffs (who may reveal themselves)
1 Black Beorning
1 Cobbler
1 Seer
1 Hunter
1 Ranger/Guardian
10 Ordinary Villagers

It is now NIGHT one. DAY one will commence in 24 hours. Seer, please PM me with the Villager of your dreams. Wolves may communicate, Sherriffs may not.

[Oddwen]

Looking at my own reflection,
When suddenly it changes,
Violently it changes
Oh, no. There is no turning back now,
you've woken up the Werewolf in me.

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Day broke as usual on the small Village of Hamlet - cold, cold, cold. And cold. Did I mention cold? Well, it was the middle of winter high up on a mountain, so the frigidity was justified. It wasn't met with cheers of joy every day, that's all.
Villagers went about their early morning duties as usual, though niggling at the back of their minds was the feeling that something wasn't right.

Alcarillo felt it as he set up the barstools.
Arcticstorm felt it as he read his theology books.
littlemanpoet felt it as he baked Zali's bread and tried on her clothes.
Boromir88 thought about it as he investigated the death of a chicken.
CaptainofDespair felt it while he herded up his shrews in preparation for the shearing later that day.
Dancing Spawn felt it as she started her inferno and sorted her glass.
Durelin felt it as she ate one of the Captain's shrews.
Enca felt it, but thought it was another symptom of lost love.
Firefoot felt it as she readied her pencils to draw a shrew.
Gil-Galad almost thought about crying it to the town, but instead went about digging a grave for the chicken.
Gurthang felt it, and it made him even more irritable about the 'Poor, pooooor chicken'.
Laitaine wrote a song about it. In D-minor. Of course.
Lalaith felt it and muttered "Sooth, sooth." Most who heard her thought she was talking about needing her chimney cleaned.
Menel felt it as he polished his armor.
Mithalwen felt it as she milked her goats.
Mormegil felt it as he turned gold into less gold.
Nonnacedak felt it as he prepared to go down to the lake and fish.
SamwiseGamgee felt it as he scornfully compared a shrew to a lyena.
Saucie felt it, even though he had been at the bar since it opened.
Wilwa felt it as she lamented her career, but was slightly more elated when she spotted a rare snow moth.

Even so, it was several hours before they noticed that something was indeed amiss. Where was their healer?
"Where is Oddwen?" they asked. "Even she never sleeps quite this late."
A few of her closest friends went across to her house, and knocked on the door. But no answer - how absurd! The friendly neighborhood chiropractor always was prompt! Not before noon usually, but always prompt after that.
"Maybe she threw her back out," suggested one. With growing crowds and alarm, they entered her house and looked for her.
"She's not in the house," they said in wonderment. "But she couldn't have left - there are her shoes and coat, on that skeleton thing she keeps around."
"She doesn't even have a fire going, and in the dead of winter too," another said, and opened the woodbox. A scream strangled its way out of the throat of the villager - and the others gathered in alarm. Another skeleton lay in the woodbox.
But a closer examination by one of the more stout-hearted revealed that this skeleton was not "another", it was the original. The one sporting Oddwen's kine-hide jacket and shoes was not a wired together reference guide at all, it was leftovers from a meal. In the pocket of the jacket they found a note:

*burp*
Werewolves three
Hee hee hee

"She's been...murdered! Eaten!" they gasped in horror. "By Werewolves...and is that supposed to be poetry?! Worser and worser! But why? Why would they attack our little peaceful village Hamlet?" A trip to the pantry revealed a clue - as they opened it, splintered wood and shredded calfskin tumbled out. It was all that remained of Oddwen's drums.
"Why would they destroy those?" murmured the village.
"I was so fond of her playing," said one sadly. "Especially when she'd yodel."
"Aye," said another growing misty eyed. "It was a comfort on those long nights."
"Reg'lar as clockwork she was, the sun'd go down, and up would go an hour long beatin' solo."
"She was good too, couldn't have missed the rhythm more'n every other measure. And you've never *heard* such dynamics!"
"Some days, the only break she took from playin' would be to serve a customer."
"She was a selfless lass, always ready to come to me house to play me to sleep when I couldn't."
"She used to come and beat on me Saucepans."
"Remember the band we formed last summer? Dear Oddwen on the skins, Laitaine playin' her flute, Menel there on his bagpipes and old man Saucie callin' the moves for the dance?"
No doubt about it - these Wolves were insane, attacking a harmless, peaceful village for no reason.
Their lamentations were cut short as Boromir88 entered, bringing in the dead chicken.
"Eew," the Villagers cried. "Eew!"
"I've discovered the reason for death," cried Boromir. "It was stepped on - by a bear!"
This was met with another shock. What? Eh? Bears? Nonsense!
A trip outside to the chicken shack quelled their doubts. There in the snow were tracks of the largest bear anyone could remember remembering. They circled Oddwen's little hut and wandered in and out of the Village. They found several other small squashed animals in its wake.
"Werewolves and frostbite and bears, oh my!" cried the Villagers.
They swore revenge on the Wolves and the bear for dear Oddwen and (on the insistence of Gurthang) the poooooooor chicken.

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It is now DAY one. Werewolves, stop PMing. Sherriffs may start. DAY will end in 24 hours.

A reminder: please do not edit your posts for anything other than minor mistakes. Double posts are okay, remember.

[Gurthang]

This is truly a tragic day; but I fear that even more tragedy will befall us before we are all able to rest. Oddwen will be sorely missed, if for no other reason than her calm thinking would have been an immense help during this newly darkened hour.

But I hope that we will all be able to think like rational humans in this matter. Do not be rash in your decisions here. We don’t know everything behind this event. These werewolves may have been forced to do this foul deed. After all, they are creatures who do things by nature and instinct. Perhaps they were responding to some threat they saw to themselves, and so they would blame us for the starting of this matter.

But know this: I am not saying what they did was right. I am searching for a peaceful end to this predicament, if that is at all possible. Maybe if we leave these werewolves alone, they will leave us alone. Perhaps this is just a big misunderstanding that will end here if we don’t continue it. If we could all think about this from the wolves’ point of view, maybe we can figure out a non-violent way of resolving this situation. Yet knowing the nature of us as humans, I’m not sure that will be possible.

Still, I hope we won’t be too hasty in the decisions we are about to make. All of our lives are at stake here, which makes this a very tense scene. Clear thinking is what we need. There is something I think we all overlook at times, but we would do better if we remembered this: Werewolves are People, too!

[(400th post!)]

[Alcarillo]

Alas! Poor Oddwen, we knew her well. I'll always remember the way she ordered he drinks at the bar; with a straight back, never slouching. *sheds tear* So, this is the first day of lynching. I suppose we could just look for suspicious posts or randomly pick somebody to lynch (probably not a good idea). We'll be in the dark until we come up with a sort of strategy for nabbing these werewolf (and bear) menaces.

[Boromir88]

Gurthang, we have a death on our hands, apparently killed by werewolves, and above that bears too. I doubt peace is going to be a good solution.

Though I do agree we should clearly think this through, no sense in irrationally starting a mass man hunt, or should I say wolf hunt? We don't want to get ourselves into a situation where we are just hanging anyone we see.

[mormegil]

Gurthang, if wolves are people too all the more reason to kill them and quickly. I've got my experiments to get back to and I do hope that this tragic event won't interfer with my gold making. Now I find it telling that our animal rights activist there is so willing to support these wolves. I tell you they can think and they know right from wrong. I say we burn them and warm ourselves by their fires.

[Firefoot]

Now why would anyone want to kill poor Oddwen? 'Tis a sad day indeed for the village of Hamlet.

I can't say as I have any pity for our wolves; from what I've heard tell they tend to be cunning creatures who know exactly what they're doing. They've got to be lynched. The problem is finding out who them wolves are, and I don't see any way to do that save by careful observation and keeping our wits about us.

We'll have to see, but today I reckon we're just going to have to get lucky.