Assigned to Mordor Planning/Discussion Thread

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Quite well rewarded, LMP, and glad to see that Anakron at least treats balrogs with the equality that they deserve. Alli might have to bring up that story that Khamul mentioned back at the Resort if he didn't.

Elempi, will all of those Barrowdowners named actually being taken part in the next challenge, the town whose name so mysteriously sounds like Tol-in-Gaurhoth?

Oh, and I don't think that Alli likes Fea very much. What a pity. And how fun to write.

[littlemanpoet]

As to "all those Barrowdowners", the answer is 'no'. I've asked many to most of them, but various and sundry had to beg off for various and sundry, and quite legitimate reasons. Like having a life. So let's all pay them well for their priorities by writing their characters for them. All Offending Party members - and cameo'ers, feel free to spoof at will.

Sorry I didn't much pick up on Fordim's post; I wanted to but there was much to cover and that one slipped my mind. so let the discussions at the village include the Pug's poll. 'K?

[littlemanpoet]

Day One of Dol Gaurgauroth will conclude at precisely 9:00 o'clock p.m. eastern standard time, on Wednesday, January 18. That gives everybody about 33 hours. Should be enough time to be creative and establish the guilt of at least two individuals.

The top two vote getters will be lynched, unless there's a tie for 2nd place; then there will be more.

[the guy who be short]

Behold! The specific WW related things sent to Mordor:

• getting lynched on the first Day of Werewolf
• Multiple lynching in Werewolf
• role of Ranger in werewolf
• werewolf games

[Kath]

Can anyone tell me what 9.00pm EST is in GMT? As I've said before, maths is not my strong point and I would prefer to actually know the deadline for once.

[the guy who be short]

2:00am in our time, Kath. At least, usually. 3:00am in Summertime. I don't think we're there yet.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Since I can't keep repping everybody (stupid rep system), I'll say it right here and right now and in a somewhat squeaky voice that brings to mind soap bubbles and can be blamed on many things, most of all whim:

This game is the single most bit of fun I've every had plotting, side-plotting, planning, character-developing, problem-solving, writing, randomly adding people and occurences, irreverent-ifying, creating, laughing, smiling, falling over chuckling, and spitting out my drink because of.

I don't think I've laughed so hard in a very long time. LMP, thanks for going through with the idea. Everybody else, you have no idea how funny this all is for me. Eomer, Alli hopes that you're not a werewolf.

Illuvatar, I'm so sorry.

[the phantom]

I have finished with the huge and unexpected tasks that were dumped on me after returning from Christmas break. I have no clue what has happened or is currently happening in ATM, but I will get caught up as quickly as possible.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Glad to see you back, m'dear. Would you believe the rumors that were floating around about how we both went missing over my break? Such suspicious people...

Alli brought fangirls to sic on Mardil during the last task. That's all that's important.

Just kidding... lots of stuff has happened. Catch it all up, it's good reading.

[the phantom]

Would you believe the rumors that were floating around about how we both went missing over my break? Such suspicious people...

I can't believe it. People are just so suspicious these days. To all of you suspicious folks out there, let me just say on the record that the fact that we both disappeared at the same time is entirely coincidence. Nothing more. Just a coincidence. We did not meet in Atlanta and fly to Cancun together where we stayed at Iberostar Paraiso Maya for eight nights, I assure you. That did not happen.

(btw, Fea, you were right about your black tshirt, I found it yesterday mixed in with my stuff)

[Celuien]

Originally Posted by littlemanpoet

Day One of Dol Gaurgauroth will conclude at precisely 9:00 o'clock p.m. eastern standard time, on Wednesday, January 18. That gives everybody about 33 hours. Should be enough time to be creative and establish the guilt of at least two individuals.

Figures that I'm on call tomorrow night. But I think I can get my vote in.

[littlemanpoet]

Originally Posted by the guy who be short

Behold! The specific WW related things sent to Mordor:

• getting lynched on the first Day of Werewolf
• Multiple lynching in Werewolf
• role of Ranger in werewolf
• werewolf games

You forgot

• the cobbler role

[Celuien]

Okay, Panakeia's vote is in. (Quite a challenge writing on this Pocket PC screen during lecture ) I probably won't be able to come back before tomorrow afternoon.

See you later.

[the phantom]

Okay, I think I'm pretty much caught up on events. Expect a very long post from me sometime during the night explaining what all Mardil has been up to these past few days.

After that, Mardil will leap into Dol Gaurgauroth and point a finger at someone based on some very solid evidence.

(don't worry, it's not a member of the offending party)

[Durelin]

the cobbler role

Taken.

And do forgive the seemingly lack of effort short post. That was the way I wanted it, because of the nature of "the game."

And please, please, please don't kill me Mr. Barrow Wight! Just lynch me, that's all I want.

[littlemanpoet]

Now this may be put on the board.

Name: Nilpaurion Felagund

Age: Almost three yéni

Race: Elves

Gender: Male/Male/Female

Appearance: Nilpaurion has the golden hair of the line of Finarfin, son of Indis the Vanya, and the grey eyes of the Noldor.

After his confinement in Mordor, Nilpaurion Felagund grew two more faces, one on each side of the head (see History below for details.)

Personality: Nilpaurion is paranoid, procrastinating and forgetful.

Adam is Machiavellian and maniacal.

Alice is discerning but disregarded.

History: After Nilpaurion, son of Felagund, was born, it was said that Amarië lay down to rest in the gardens of Lórien, saying to Finrod, 'The spirit that would have gone to two sons and a daughter has gone to our son. I'm still wondering why that has happened, for it has already happened to Míriel, your granfather's first wife. Maybe something is different with this child. You must watch him carefully while I rest for a while.'

The child indeed is different. At times, he was seen talking to himself, referring to some imaginary being named Adam, and replying in a different voice. And there had even been occasions where Nilpaurion speaks in a female voice. The Elves of Valinor were much perturbed by this, and they presented him to the Valar. After much consultation, Mandos said to Finrod, 'It is not fitting that a schizophrenic child shall live among the normal-minded. Therefore he is to be banished to Middle-earth, in hopes of curing him of his illness. May Eru have mercy on him.'

So he was exiled to Middle-earth, during the height of the power of the Anakronism Dweomer. He had already taken tests and read textbooks on psychology and Freud, but to no avail. Missing his home (and his television), he has decided to pretend to be cured just to go back home. But his plan of hypocrisy was thwarted. He overslept on the day of the setting sails of the final ship. Contemplating taking his life (which would send him to Mandos and thence to the Blessed Realm), he opted instead to roam around Middle-earth, thinking to find his death in a way more likely to be rendered in song.

Sometime during his stay in Gondor, Nilpaurion befriended Sai Onara. Once, in his attempt to help Sai, he called the Anakronism Police to help bring a certain psychology coursework to Mordor. But Adam Smith, his nemesis and alter-ego, took the opportunity to report him to the same policemen he called upon to help him. Thus, he was dragged to Mordor.

Upon entering the Black Land, Nilpaurion underwent a most Dantesque transformation. The two alter-egos of his mind made their physical manifestation, and on either sides of his face grew new faces. On the left was Adam Smith, and on the right was Alice Holly.

Due to the machinations of the vile Adam, Nilpaurion Felagund has taken the most distasteful task in all of Mount Doom Casino and Resort: A customer relations personnel. He is expected to smile and answer questions people have regarding directions, instead reacting more naturally and lashing out at the rank stupidity of people who should have instead consulted the maps (randomly scattered all over the place) or checked the garish signs pointing to well-visited places.

[littlemanpoet]

NAME: Eomer of the Rohirrim.

AGE: 21.

RACE: Man (of Rohan, sooth, sooth).

GENDER: Male.

WEAPONS: The ability to run away rather quickly; a sword (mostly for show); and a high-pitched shriek.

APPEARANCE: Eomer is a little over six feet tall and is thin. He tends to wear shabby clothes: jackets, cloaks. At times, this looks quite fetching in an 'outsider' kind of way. Most of the time, though, he just looks like a tramp. He has flowing hair which changes colour as it pleases: here dark brown, here golden, here sepia. He has deep eyes which somehow catch people's attention, probably because they cannot help but try to judge whether Eomer is still alive. He has a highly lazy look about him; maybe 'sedated' is a more fitting word.

PERSONALITY: Selfish; uninterested in other people; cynical. But that's on the inside. To other eyes he appears delightful, charming and winsome. When in the mood, Eomer can be extremely unlikeable to those who get close to him; and this mood takes him quite often.

STRENGTHS: The ability to make himself appear far more interesting and desirable than he actually is. Also, upon hearing the sound of drums & electric guitar, he obtains great and dangerous energy. Mostly, this power is but a memory of his pre-Mordor days.

WEAKNESSES: The sound of beautiful piano music can sometimes reduce him to a weeping wreck, especially at inopportune moments. And axes through his heart: that's another weakness.

HISTORY: Eomer lived an unwholesome and self-centred life in a land far, far away, until, after crowing about his perfection one time too many, was mysteriously assigned to Mordor by his as-yet unknown nemesys.

[littlemanpoet]

Character Description Form: Hookbill

1.) Have you ever played in an RPG at the Barrow Downs? – YES
Spawn of Ungoliant

2.) How many RPG’s on the Barrow Downs are you currently involved in?
None

3.) Have you posted in The Green Dragon Inn – YES
_______________________________________

for your character please include:

NAME: Hookbill the Goomba

AGE: 18

RACE: Goomba. Or, more accurately, a man.

GENDER: Male

WEAPONS: A moderate wit.

APPEARANCE: Small and unadorned. He has also a grey tunic and orange cloak with Black trousers and large brown boots. No fixed hairstyle.

PERSONALITY/STRENGTHS/WEAKNESSES: Crazy Caption player and proud of it! British and Proud of it! Usually quiet, probably trying to think of something witty to say, but will probably fail utterly. His main strength is running away from danger. His main weakness is not running fast enough.

HISTORY: Spending much of his time on the outskirts of Mirkwood, near to the house of Radagast (from whom he got a lot of food. Weather Radagast knows this is another matter). He grew up in a rural village and was trained as a scientist, but broke the bonds of oppression and became a poet, but was thrown out of the village when his poetry turned out to be terrible. He later became a cobbler in Dol Gaurgauroth for reasons best know to himself.

__________________________________


First post:

“Well, I’m a cobbler,” said the rather defensive Hookbill as he moved behind a chair away from one of the villagers. “I’ve been here for three years. I’m not a new character, or even a cameo.”
“Then why,” enquired the villager, “does your post title say ‘Hookbill’s Cameo?’”
The little man stopped and thought. Too many questions so early in the morning, only four o’clock pm! Did these people have no respect? “You’re not supposed to be able to see that.” He mumbled eventually looking at his shoes and seeing an interesting pattern in the creases of the leather.
“Well, I don’t like this,” continued the villager, now getting rather annoyed, “You had better not meet me again, or you’ll be sorry.” The villager stormed out leaving footprints in the floorboards and breaking the door as it was closed. Hookbill slowly sunk to the ground and hummed to himself until a brick flew through his window and hit him on the head.
Awaking some time later, Hookbill found a note attached to the brick, ‘Shut up’ was written on one side. On the other was ‘Welcome to Dol Gaurgauroth. Please enjoy our snack bars’. He sighed and got back to work.

[littlemanpoet]

Night is now upon the village of Dol Gaurgauroth.

Ranger, Seer, and Werewolves, PM me with your choices; the Hunter already has.

As soon as I have received their choices, as well as the werewolf kill, and posted the New Day post, Day Two shall begin. So stay tuned.

Any questions?

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Are Nilp and Hookbill actually playing? If so, Hookbill, my apologies for writing you out so quickly after your convenient arrival.

[the phantom]

Well, my post is up. I trimmed the details and kept it as short as I could. It's a bunch of explanatory nonsense, only interesting to those who are interested in following Mardil's plot line.

But never fear. Starting tomorrow I will start getting a bit goofy, which I'm sure will make my posts more readable.

And now, let me get this fourth challenge straight. Are we actually playing a game of werewolf? How long are the nights/days? If we are killed during the night or lynched during the day, are we forever out of the RPG?

[Nilpaurion Felagund]

Tradition, I guess.

. . .

I learned a valuable lesson today--it's about putting up a SAVE when you need it.

And I just made this nice, long post . . . Do you mind if I just put it here? I wanted at least one post in this game, and maybe the Discussion thread would count. Yeah, I'm crazy like that . . .

POST PLACED ~*~ PIO
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Nilpaurion Felagund's post

'Ah, Nilp. Or is it Alice today? I seem to remember seeing an Emily recently... how goes it with you?'

'Blink blink,' the eyelids replied.

'Scratch scratch,' the head and hand asked in unison.

'Yawn,' the mouths opined.

And, then, one of them screamed.

He had suddenly been transported to . . . a pair of his eyes--the red one with three black dots in it--turned to a sign.

'Welcome to Dol Gaurgaurhothr.
Population: Changes pretty fast.'

'Blimey. I'm still stuck with this guy? I thought I left him in Mt. Doom,' someone to his left said. His head turned in that direction, but he saw only a drunk man wearing what looked to him like an aluminium head-dress--Aluminium Hatted Man, he named the character, aHM for short--, conversing with a small-pink clad monkey holding what seems to be a pistol. No, that couldn't have been them. Where did that voice come--

'I'm hungry. What's for breakfast?' a female voice to his right said. He turned to the direction of the voice again. But he saw only a male-type Man. Even if that man could speak in a female voice, it couldn't have been him. His vocal chords was at least two metres away from him. Plus, he was his airway was constricted by a looped rope hung from a strange wooden cantilever.

Then where are the voices coming from?

'Oh, look, a bone,' the female voice said, and he felt himself being dragged in a direction he didn't intend to go. Suddenly, he stopped, and he found himself sitting down. He heard the sounds of a nineteen year-old gnawing on a bloody sheep's shank to his right.

He felt someone glaring at him. He turned, and saw a middle-aged female mortal with blonde hair of a questionable shade. Her seemingly violet eyes, had they had mouths, would surely be screaming bloody murder.

'Would someone please lynch us?' the creepy voice to his left said aloud. 'I'd rather be dead than stuck with him like this.'

He suddenly recalled that voice. Once, he had heard it only in the confines of his mind. It was then he realised.

Nilpaurion had three faces.

'Hi, Fea! I'm here, Emily!' another familiar female voice said behind him.

Make that four. Oh, wearing glasses would be so difficult now . . . But his nearsightedness and astigmatism weren't his primary concern now.

How do I escape from here? he thought. Think, Nilpy, think!

'Wait a second,' yelped Sai--how did he know the name? 'Will we actually be killed? That wasn't in the contract!'

That's it! Hey, isn't that Ms. Sai Onara, the lass I met in Gondor while looking for a cure for multiple-personality disorder? Never mind that! So, what was my idea? Well, since I'm of the Elder race, dying would only bring me to Mandos, about a pleasant day's walk from my childhood home. Yeah, that's it! I just have to die. Nilpaurion's strange red eyes glanced from side to side, hoping that the physically manifest alter-egos would not notice the decision made in his mind by the other half-unnamed alter-egos that made up Nilpaurion Felagund's governing council. Now, how do I pull this off . . .

'Your attention, please!' he cried as he walked to the centre of the town quadrangle. There was a hush as all eyes turned to him, some screaming bloody murder in various degrees of violence, some snorting, 'What an attention-seeker!' while others just stared with their lower eyelids dropping as if they were jaws. Nilpaurion wasn't exactly a model Elf, or an Elven model for that matter, and the three new faces that suddenly sprouted on either side and the back of his head didn't help matters.

[At this point, the narrative brakes, and then shifts into poetic gear.]

Ascended Finrod's son and heir.
With dreadful voice he uttered there:
'Be you friend, or foe, or just a guest
Of Barrowdowns, or on a quest
To fare away from this sad part
Of Middle-earth, Dark Land's black heart,
Neither law, nor love, nor league of Hell,
Nor any Troll from Dunland Fell
May save you if you do not vote
For Nilpy Feg, with brains of oat;
For he is obviously a wolf--
Uh, wait a mo: What rhymes with 'wolf'?

[Here the poetic part ends, and the narrative continues.]

All eyes blinked at least once; some did so twice, and a few other thrice. When they had finished blinking, he saw something in their eyes that made him smile. They were all too ready to lynch him. But he frowned when he looked deeper. They only wanted to rid themselves of his atrocious poetry, which seemed to be on par with Vogonwë's (of Entish Bow fame). Hmph, not appreciating my poetry. I should send the lot of you to Mordor, or something. Hmmm, maybe I'll post about that later. Oh, never me mind that! They're about to lynch me, and I don't care for what the reason, so long as they do it.

But suddenly, Emily sidled into the conversation, 'What? What does all that mean?'

All eyes blinked again, and when they had opened, confusion replaced the anger they felt at his horrendous butchering of lyric Art (short for Arthur, of course). Not a few were muttering, 'What did he mean? Some troll from Dunland fell on a nilpy peg--what's a "nilpy" peg, anyway?--while eating oat bran?' He had lost his 'Lynch me!' momentum. He had to regain it. Nilpaurion grinned sheepishly, or rather like a sheep trying hard to look like a wolf hiding in a fluffy woolen pullover.

'What it means, my dear villagers, is that I'm a werewolf. You must lynch me, lest I destroy your village. If you do not vote for me, that means you're not trying to help this village, so I'll vote for you. Is that clear?'

'Hey, Mr. ModeVayor,' a female voice cried from behind Nilp, 'is multiple voting allowed?'

Before Anakron could answer, the creepy voice declared, 'If that's allowed, then let's just vote for Nilp an infinite number of times.'

'I don't know,' said another female voice, this time from Nilp's right, her voice dripping with sensibility, 'isn't death by lynching a bit painful?'

But she was ignored. No Seer was needed to see that; Alice was usually ignored by everyone. 'I vote for

++Nilpaurion Felagund

toDAY,' Adam said.

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

~*~

. . . Hmmm, I wouldn't happen to be cluttering up this thread, would I?

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Way to be busy, phantom.

I like it. When Alli and Mardil start talking again, they'll eventually have to chat about this.

[the guy who be short]

Kath, the system is actually quite difficult to tamper with:

Each stick and stone has a name engraved upon it

EDIT: You will probably all be glad to know that I will end my social commentary soon, though I still need to work out the details of Fléin and Sai's confrontation with Kath.

Nilp, you can get that post shoved in somewhere if you want.

[the phantom]

Fea, would you mind if I found a bit of evidence that pointed to you being a werewolf (not Alli, but Fea)?

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Go ahead, phantom. I am a werewolf. I mean... Fea is. She means... no, she's innocent. Go on and kill her, if you can convince enough people. She'll put up a fight, though. And um... Yeah... accuse her but leave her/me an opening to do something really stupid and fun. Be like

Fea's a wolf and we should kill her because.

And then leave me a clear opening for a response from her.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

He of the Metrical Smallness has asked that I post my character description.

Name: Fordim Hedgethistle

Age: 104

Race: Hobbit

Appearance: So handsome that even the Elves sing songs of his beauty. Lasses and maids have thrown themselves from high places when he failed to look at them. Others have fallen into trances of bliss when spoken to by him. He wears glasses.

Character Description: Mild-mannered professor at home, adventurer-archealogist abroad. Doctor Hedgethistle doesn't believe in a lot of magical superstitious hocus-pocus, and he never allows himself to wander too far from his fedora. He is clever, quick and tricky. He is terrified of snakes.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

I've changed my mind. Well, not exactly. The villagers aren't going to be happy with Fea though... I don't think that her plan is going to help them much.

I'm working on the post now.

Mardil won't have to stretch much to incriminate her, I don't think.

[the guy who be short]

List of Assigned things updated to include P19: http://forum.barrowdowns.com/showthr...549#post435549

Henceforth, every time a new page is completed, I will try to update the list as soon as possible. This means I won't need to post announcements like this every so often. I'll continue the updating until the end of the RPG.

EDIT: When does Day 2 end, Elempi?

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

I'm switching the Fea-is-a-psychotic-wolf-summoner post to after the (wow, this wasn't quite what I expected) Mardil-catches-Fea post.

'Tis a pity that Alli's going to get the wrong idea about Fea and Mardil. She walked in at entirely the wrong time. Way for her to totally misinterpret what she saw. Because Mardil had simply been changing his shirt and Fea had simply been changing her socks.

Right, phantom? Because Fea's not the kind of girl that would walk into that sort of trap, because she's smarter than that, and she's definately not the kind of girl that Alli seems to think she is. So there.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

I've just switched my post's location and added a bit to it for reasons that you guys will probably find out later in the game.

[the guy who be short]

So, I presume Mardil recovered from his deafness very quickly? Shame.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Hey TGWBS... where have I run off to? Just out of curiousity? Is it up for interpretation and/or "Do I get to write in something really fun?" or do you have something up your sleeve?

[littlemanpoet]

Pio, would please place post #382 on this thread, in between posts # 145 & 146 on the RPG thread? Thanks much!

And Nilpy, we're not done yet. It ain't called the Anakronism Dweomer for nothing....

[littlemanpoet]

Originally Posted by the phantom

And now, let me get this fourth challenge straight. Are we actually playing a game of werewolf? How long are the nights/days? If we are killed during the night or lynched during the day, are we forever out of the RPG?

Sorry for the delay in answering this question. Most of your questions are answered in the Fourth Test post, found somewhere on page four of the rpg. But heck, I'll answer them briefly here too. You're playing a SPOOF of the werewolf game. The days are usually about 36 to 48 hours, depending on when I get the first New Day posts up. The nights are as long as it takes for "players" to get their information to me, tacking on the time it takes me to find a computer to get back to this site. Members of the Offending Party can die. They are obviously rather unlikely to during the Day phase, as there is a solid minority of seven people (make that 8 including FofP) who aren't willing to see their fellow Offending Party members lynched. Of course, Mardil can be an exception to that if he wishes. And after two Nights of Deaths, one may begin to see a pattern.....

Assume nothing.

[littlemanpoet]

Originally Posted by the guy who be short

When does Day 2 end, Elempi?

Ah yes. Apologies for leaving that out.

Day Two ends at 6:00 p.m., Friday, eastern standard time.

[the phantom]

Because Mardil had simply been changing his shirt and Fea had simply been changing her socks.

That's certainly what most people would assume.

Because Fea's not the kind of girl that would walk into that sort of trap

Maybe it wasn't so much a trap as it was a lucky accident and Mardil is just spinning the whole thing to look like a trap after the fact (to make himself look good and clever rather than hormonal). Perhaps the whole thing was, plain and simple, two people suffering from a sudden attack of strong biological and chemical attraction. Everyone knows that sort of thing is bound to happen when you get these cross-dimensional-multi-timeline mixes of people thrown together. It's one of those little known physics laws. Surely you considered that?

[the guy who be short]

Fea: do whatever you want. I just thought it'd be a sneaky Fea thing to do.

[piosenniel]

NOTE:

Nilp's post placed - between #145 & 146 on game thread.

~*~ Pio

[littlemanpoet]

Thanks much, Pio!