Tol-in-Gaurhoth revisited (aka Werewolf 2)

[The Saucepan Man]

Darkness falls across the land
The midnight hour is close at hand
Creatures crawl in search of blood
And terrorise your neighbourhood

And whosoever shall be found
Without the soul for getting down
Must stand and face the Hounds of Hell
And rot inside a corpse’s shell …

Welcome to the second game of Werewolf on the Barrow-Downs.

The original rules may be found here. Additional rules for this game may be found here.

The players are:

Anguirel (Grim Blacksmith)
Feanor of the Peredhil (Village Healer)
Holybtlass (Old Farmer’s Wife)
Eomer of the Rohirrim (Rich Merchant)
The Barrow-Wight (Strong Stonemason)
the phantom (Landlord of The Phantom Inn)
Fordim Hedgethistle (Tall Sheep-Shearer)
Encaitare (Grumpy Old Lady)
Ainaserkewen (Village Innocent)
dancing spawn of ungoliant
Oddwen (Henwife - er - she keeps chickens)
Son of Númenor (Timid Carpenter)
Nimrodel_9 (Simple Farm Girl)

The Village comprises:
3 Werewolves
1 Seer
1 Cursed Villager
1 Werewolf Hunter
1 Guardian
6 Ordinary Villagers
_________________________

The sun slowly sank below the horizon as the villagers reflected on the recent disturbing events. For several nights now, dreadful howls had been heard in the surrounding forest and each morning sheep and cattle had been found in the fields slaughtered and half devoured. Some terrible evil was afoot and the villagers feared for their very lives. They gradually fell into a restless sleep, hoping that they would not be next on the menu …
__________________________

It is now the first NIGHT. The Werewolves should contact each other, and one of them should notify me of their intended victim. The Seer should notify me who they wish to dream about and the Guardian should notify me who they wish to guard.

This post is timed at 1AM GMT on Saturday 21 May. The first DAY will commence 24 hours from now (1AM GMT on Sunday 22 May), or earlier if all notifications are received before then.

Good luck!

[The Saucepan Man]

The village awoke. All had overslept, for strangely no rooster call had greeted the morning.

The villagers convened in The Phantom Inn for breakfast, fearful that the night had brought yet more slaughter in the fields. Yet it seemed that neither sheep nor cattle had been harmed that night and, as they talked, it became apparent that not one of them had heard the dreadful howls of the previous nights. Some ventured to suggest that perhaps the wolfish fiends that had been besetting the village had moved on. Yet there was one who was not present. And, as the morning wore on and she did not appear, the villagers decided to pay her a visit to check on her.

As they approached her small house, they were immediately aware that something was not quite right. It seemed quiet. Too quiet. The usual sound of clucking and crowing was noticeably absent. Looking into the henhouse, the villagers saw that it was empty. Perhaps Oddwen had decided to kill her flock in preparation for a feast to celebrate the end of the village’s wolfish woes.

But, on entering her house, they were confronted with a terrible sight. A large pile of feathers mixed (worryingly) with human hair lay on the table. Oddwen’s entire stock of chickens had been slaughtered, plucked and hung from the ceiling. But it was not that which drew the villagers’ attention. At the end of the row of chickens there hung another figure, much larger than the rest. Suspended by her legs, her head lolling at an improbable angle, there hung Oddwen. Her neck had been broken and all the hair had been plucked from her head. She had been plucked and trussed like a chicken, as if ready for some dreadful feast …

Living:
Anguirel
Feanor of the Peredhil
Holbytlas
Eomer of the Rohirrim
The Barrow-Wight
the phantom
Fordim Hedgethistle
Encaitare
Ainaserkewen
dancing spawn of ungoliant
Son of Númenor
Nimrodel_9

Dead:
Oddwen (Villager) - slaughtered, plucked and trussed like a chicken on Night 1

Score:
Werewolves: 3
Villagers: 9

DAY 1 has now started. It will end in 24 hours’ time (11.30AM GMT tomorrow), or earlier if a clear majority on voting is reached before then.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Well it's terrible and all wot's 'appened to Oddwen, but ere's being thankful as it wasn't me...

Course, now I'm a-wondering who it might 'ave been who killed that lass and all her lovely chickens. Ooooh, how I would like a taste of one o' them right now; they always were the best things after a hard night with the bottle...

But who can tell about the folk in this cursed place? Some of 'em are not right, and that's for sure. That Phantom fellow and all: sure, he can pull a good pint, but what sort of a name is that to 'ave? I ask you? And Ainaserkewen: lookin' and actin' innocent all the day, but fair covers on foul books, I says...

*glower*

[The Barrow-Wight]

"One thing is for sure," said the mason, pulling his fingers through his greying hair. "We're going to need to protect ourselves."

He looked around the room, first at the unfortunate victim and then, one-by-one, a long stare into the eyes of each of his fellow citizens.

"One of you, or maybe more than one, is a werewolf. I have no magic eye to determine which of you it is, so I'll cast no accusations so early in the morning. But I will prepare a place where you can be dealt with when we do discover who you are."

The mason walked through the door saying, "This town needs a gallows. I shall be in the square building one."

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Poor Oddwen. We'll find the scoundrels who did this to you. And we shall be quick, yes.

Three of our own, but of whom do we have reason to suspect? Let us stare at each other with intensity; the guilty will crack before long.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

The healer looked with intensity at all who were present. Poor, poor Oddwen, she thought. Who could have... She trailed off, sleepy still. It was far too early after a late night out to be thinking so critically. Who says that healers don't dance? she thought with an amused smile. But alas, that isn't the point... we've a bloody lot of werewolves on the loose, without a single clue as to who they are.

She glared more or less equally at almost everybody, glaring slightly more forebodingly at Anguirel. The two had quite a rocky past, though not everyone was aware. If he tries any of that funny business this time...

"Fordim," she said worriedly, "what gives you the idea that the phantom is not as pure and innocent as the wind driven snow? Or that Aina might be more than she seems. Why those two, do you pick?"

[the phantom]

The Phantom welcomed everyone into the common room and brought them drinks.

"I assure you, Mr. Hedgethistle, I had nothing whatsoever to do with my name. It was given to me by my parents. Though I have come to love my name- since it refers to me," he ended with a wink.

The Phantom then turned to The Barrow-Wight. "Werewolf, you say? Where did you come up with that? I never even thought about it- figured it was just a pack of regular old wolves. Are you versed in werewolf lore and know certain things to look for? If so, you'd better let us know what we are dealing with here."

The Phantom raised his voice for all to hear. "I think we should wait for a few more people to arrive before we start coming to any sort of conclusion. Everyone try to remember if they've seen anything funny the past few days and then tell about it. As my father used to say, 'nothing like a room full of smart people talkin' to fix a problem'."

"I'll be back in a bit, hon," he said quietly to Fea. "I'm going to take a walk around town and look for tracks and such."

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Fea responded just as quietly. "I think I may join you. There is nothing worse than the first day when we have nothing, not even pointless accusations, to go on. There is no point in sitting t'home where I'll learn nothing for some time, when I could be out looking for answers. And besides... I heard that that lovely new couple in town is expecting. I should go see if they need any help.

[dancing spawn of ungoliant]

Dancing spawn was still shocked about the horrible deed that took place in her own village as she entered the Inn. Many had already gathered there but she didn't feel comfortable to sit down next to any other people. "Anyone here can be more than he or she claims to be", she muttered to herself.

Eomer stared disturbingly at every villager in the room and suffocative silence filled the otherwise cheery Inn. "The Barrow-Wight has gone off to build a gallows tree. I bet that poor Oddwen's death won't be the last one in this community", Dancing spawn sighed.

[Son of Númenor]

The already frantic murmur of the crowd turned into an audible gasp as I made my way into the square where the villagers had convened, outside of Oddwen’s house. I could feel my pale features growing flushed, my arms trembling. I should not, I decided, have come.

What’s he doing here? someone murmured, thinking himself out of the range of my ear.

I’ll bet he did it – him and his old mum, said another, bolder voice. I clenched my fists and drew a deep breath.

No coincidence, this: ‘im turnin’ up in public fer the first time in months, day after a murder’s be done.

I tried to redirect my attention; walking as composedly as my nerves would allow, I went and took a seat on a bench, next to an elderly man who I recognized: I’d built him a plain bureau for his wife a few months ago, a surprise for their anniversary. He nodded at me and smiled, I think somewhat gravely. My eyes were fixed downward on my feet, but I returned the nod.

"I’m only hear to listen, for the time being", I said, inexplicably compelled to explain myself to the old man.

That is as it should be, he replied. There was a pause. My wife thanks you for the bureau. It is quite sturdy.

I sat for awhile and listened to the villagers. To my surprise, one of the village elders called upon me to give my thoughts. I could feel the crowd’s gaze upon me, and knew that no answer I gave would be satisfactory. I also knew that my remaining silent could prove deadly in this panicked atmosphere.

"Well," I stammered, after some hesitation, "I noticed that Fordim was not only the first to speak, but the only to mention others’ names; was it perhaps a deflection of perceived suspicion? And then there was that old mason, planning the execution before it was decided who was to be executed; it seemed to me an overreaction, at the least." The crowd was visibly aghast at my audacity: me, the hermitic carpenter, making so bold as to name names.

There would be a time, I knew, ere the sun set this very day, when I would have to cast my vote for a hanging. With this in mind, I added, "Certainly now is not the time for rash judgement. I meant no hurt upon the characters of the men I named, if it be proved that my suspicions are unfounded."

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

As Fea and the phantom walked through the village, she whispered in his ear.

"M'lad, earlier you said

I never even thought about it- figured it was just a pack of regular old wolves.

Did it not occur to you that the pretty lass was strung up to the ceiling? A pack of regular wolves can't tie knots. They sort of... um..." she thought for a moment, trying to put this delicately so that it might not be construed as suspicion so much as a somewhat affectionate correction. "M'boy, wolves lack the reach and the opposable thumbs."

Hearing a terrifyingly disembodied voice commanding them to return to the group, Fea and the phantom quickly followed orders.

As she looked around at the growing group of villagers, Fea began to post in a slightly different manner.

Fordim, I'd love for you to speak up and explain why you picked those two. Also, I'm very seriously considering dropping names like rabid ferrits (oh how I love this new phrase... ) just to see what people's reactions will be. Just to.. you know... spice things up a bit.

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

*Lighting his pipe and taking a contemplative puff upon it*

Well, Sono, if there’s no-one here as is willing to point fingers at others, we may as well just slit our own throats and do the Werewolves’ work for them! A very nice piece of reasoning you ‘ave there I must say. The first as speaks is the first to draw suspicion? What about the one who sits there with nary a word and an innocent smile upon her pretty face?

*Looks at Ainaserkwen*

The ol’ Barrow-Wight has the right idea there, I says. Let’s get up a gallows right quick and put it to use too! And I say let’s string up that there

++Phantom

Yea, yea – I hear you a-caterwauling for an explanation mistress Fea, and I aim to give it. It seems to me that if I were a Werewolf, and if I wanted to make sure I knew what was what about a town, I could do a lot worse that set myself up as the Innkeeper of that there town! What’s more, if I were a werewolf, and I wanted to have about me others as I could easily fool into trusting me, it seems I would want to be married. Of course, now that I think of it, seems to me that if I were a Werewolf, I might prefer the company of my own kind…

Now I just a-knows that there’s going to be some among you all who think that I’m a-trying to move the noose from around my own neck and onto another’s. Well, there’s not much I can say to that other than to say that I know I’m no Werewolf, but I can’t say that I know the same about that Phantom feller. The ways I see it is this – if we hang him there’s two results…

First, he’s a Werewolf and we’ve done right; then we’ll know that anyone who tried to save him, or who was mysteriously quiet in the matter, is probably one of those hairy beasts too!

Second, he’s not a Werewolf and we’ve done wrong, but then we can pretty much clear anyone who argued to save his life and begin to look a lot more closely at those who argued to hang him – and yes I know that if this happens, I’m sure to draw some people down on me: but if you do hang me, when my body stays as human as the day it came from out my mother, I hope that you’ll all remember my words here and feel sorry as to have turned against one who is trying to save this village!

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Yea, yea – I hear you a-caterwauling for an explanation mistress Fea, and I aim to give it.

It isn't good enough.

set myself up as the Innkeeper of that there town

True enough, but you have to remember that we're talking about the phantom and that he is notorious for his love of being the center of attention. How better than by owning the gathering place? He's pret' much guaranteed attention all day long, most especially if he's all dressed up in what would be called a tuxedo if they happened to exist in this time period!

to have about me others as I could easily fool into trusting me, it seems I would want to be married

Easily fooled my word-that-would-be-bleeped-were-I-to-post-it! Just because I'm not randomly pointing fingers and casting a vote that can not be revoked doesn't mean I'm easily fooled. It means more that I am not a fool. Big difference, m'lad, and see if I come heal you next time you're ill. Although I'll bet you wouldn't want me to come heal you, if I'm such a fool. I might screw up and vote that the wrong illness get lynched from your miserable old bones!

some among you all who think that I’m a-trying to move the noose from around my own neck and onto another’s

Yes, yes there are, y'old fool. You have limited evidence, if you can even call it that, and yet you are pointing fingers (or are they paws?). Half of what you call evidence you did not gain from anything that's been said or done. 'Tis what was gleaned from an outside source, and those, Mister Hedgethistle, count for naught in these parts.

But if your idea is to point fingers and find out reactions, then I applaud you for your sheer talent at it. Although I have no idea what the phantom's reactoin will be (although it will probably include hearty laughter and finger-pointing as he's doing it), I know that by tossing out unfounded accusations, you've drawn a heck of a lot of attention to yourself. And you called me a fool, which means I'll be watching you closely and dessecting every word you say. Tread carefully, Mister Hedgethistle, before you accuse yourself right to the gallows.

[Holbytlass]

So quick, Fordim. You forget the third, that you and Phantom might be both innocent!
You have cast your vote and nothing can be done to change that. But before anyone else jumps on this bandwagon to hang Phantom, please wait. The gallows will keep, there is time before night. Perhaps others might vote for Phantom just to save their own necks (werewolf and innocent alike) from the noose. Perhaps innocent ones might feel there is enough of us to make Phantom a sacrifice. I am not siding with Phantom on his innocence or guilt, nor am I against Fordim for his boldness. Which, by the way, can taken as wolfish. Right now, I side with justice and patience, afterall, there are so many who have not shown up.

[the phantom]

You left out one of the possibilities, Fordim. Perhaps I am not only innocent, but also could make an extremely valuable contribution to this village when it comes to catching or protecting people from beasts.

I think we could do with a bit less haste and a bit more thought. All the townspeople haven't arrived yet- who knows what one of them might have to say? And your suspicions are ridiculous if you don't mind my saying so. I was here in this Inn all night- just ask my lovely wife. She's a light sleeper and would've noticed if I had been in and out. And as far as accusing her of being a monster...well...you had better watch your step. I'm not a violent man, but nobody talks about Fea like that!

If I had to name names, yours would be at the top of the list, Fordim. That carpenter, Son of Numenor, he knew what he was talking about when he mentioned you. He also knew what he was talking about when he said "Certainly now is not the time for rash judgement." I know some of you may be wary of Son, but I've always thought he was a intelligent, upstanding young man. We'd all do well to follow his advice.

I disagree with him on the mason though- The Barrow-Wight. Sure he's getting ready to hang someone, but I think it's because he doesn't want to get into all of the name calling and such. He's working by himself outdoors instead of slinging mud around indoors. Pretty smart, if you ask me.

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

There's also the fourth, Holby: that they're both werewolves and Fordim is quite cleverly messing with us.

But really, there isn't enough evidence out to accuse anybody of anything yet.

[Anguirel]

...announces the Blacksmith's (suspiciously?) tardy arrival. He advances on the lanky Fordim, a thunderous frown on his face. He speaks quietly, hoarsely, firmly.

"If ye wag yon tongue rashly, ye go about snapping blameless necks. Thine most o' all. Half the village be against thee already. Have a care, lad. Have a care."

Next the burly, solemn fellow turns on the innkeeper.

"As for ye, publican, lay off the mason. He's but a working man as I am. He has his craft to look to. Glance at yon walls and remember you have him to thank for them. Be not so ungrateful."

[the phantom]

lay off the mason

I did. This is what I said-

I disagree with him on the mason though- The Barrow-Wight. Sure he's getting ready to hang someone, but I think it's because he doesn't want to get into all of the name calling and such. He's working by himself outdoors instead of slinging mud around indoors. Pretty smart, if you ask me.

I was trying to say that I don't suspect the mason (BW).

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Originally Posted by Feanor of the Peredhil

they're both werewolves and Fordim is quite cleverly messing with us.

I ain't never had truck with cleverness! But I'm sorry as to have raised your hackles Miss Fea, I did not a-mean to go and call you a fool, but to say that if I were a Werewolf I would want to fool the people close to me.

And thanks a-plenty Miss Holbytlass for at the least appreciating my "boldness" as you call it -- there's many an other here who will be apounding on me for that very thing before long, looking at it instead as the sign of an evil conscience. Truth be told I'm rascally...a human, but rascally.

But I 'ave to ask what the great rush is to wait: what "evidence" do you all suppose is going to emerge before the second Night? T'ain't at all likely that the Werewolves are going to step forward and declare their guilt! And innocent folk can do little more than say they are innocent and be believed or not! If we all take a wait-and-see approach, then we'll be watching as night falls and have done nothing to avenge the death of Oddwen.

[Holbytlass]

I mourn Oddwen. My heart cries for her, and agrees that she should be avenged.
The avenging has to start somewhere and I fear for you, Fordim because of your boldness and vote, The Phantom and you are on the chopping block. Each of us has to decide where to place our vote.
As you have pointed out, no one else is really going to come forward with compelling evidence to put a third person (or themselves) on the block.
And I am scared of the possibility of both being innocent.

[Anguirel]

The smith looks fully answered-and indeed a little ashamed-after the phantom's speech.

Shaking his head sadly, he turns back towards Fordim.

"Well, lad, if ye want pain and sundering, let us have it in an orderly, well-forged sort of way. Let each villager stand forth and be questioned by the assembly."

Without hesitation, he steps, hard, on the shepherd's foot, smiling mirthlessly as the yelp rings out. "Well-volunteered, Master Hedgethistle. Now tell us-what exactly were you about last night?"

[Fordim Hedgethistle]

Sleepin! Ye daft, stumble-footed mallow! And that's the last I shall say on the matter.

[Anguirel]

The Smith does not comment, though he steps back and stops menacing Fordim. At last he nods.

"As for me, I didnae sleep at all. I spent a while sharpening the edges of my broadsword. I feared something mickle unnatural might occur. Did ye nae hear of the village not two-score miles north-east? The wolf-kin came...and they left no survivors. Though two were gibbeted, the third finished the job."

The Blacksmith spits on the ground. "That beast had many hanged corpses to devour by night. We do most harm to ourselves. The real evil the creatures bring is not blood, but strife. Nevertheless...we must set about our business, ill though it is."

[the phantom]

You know, Fordim, your abrasive manner is really rubbing me the wrong way.

I heard a tale about another village that got attacked by werewolves. The day after the first killing, there was a fellow by the name of Anguirel that started acting just the way you are acting, and he turned out to be a werewolf.

Now you might say that a werewolf would be a fool to act like that again, but perhaps doing it again would be the perfect cover. It would be a brilliant move for a werewolf to act like Anguirel did that time.

Singling out one person and going after them like this- others might be inclined to go along with you, thinking that you had some sort of secret ability to sniff out beasts. But why would someone with that sort of gift be so anxious to hint at it so early- before you've had a chance to really use it much? That doesn't make much sense to me.

I certainly don't know you are a wolf. You could very well be an innocent who just wants to hang someone and get this over with, but your behavior is not leaving me with much of a choice on who to vote for.

[Anguirel]

The Smith coughs loudly.

"You're on shaky ground, innkeeper. To my mind Fordim is behaving not like my namesake, but like our village healer's, Feanor of the Peredhil. I would remind ye that suspicion of that unfortunate-stirred up by a laddie remarkably akin to your ain good self-led to the eventual ruin of that wee hamlet. Do not fall intae Fordim's own trap and be sae swift to condemn."

[Nimrodel_9]

Rather late, Nimrodel sidled through the crowd to get a look. She gave a small squeak and quickly pulled back at the gruesome sight. She covered her eyes and moved away from the terrible scene. Poor Oddwen! Her presence would truly be missed! She had heard about what had happened and thought Oddwen's death had been exaggerated. Just regular wolves she had thought. Who would do something like this?! Then she heard the whisper of werewolves. She squeaked again. "Werewolves?! But I thought they were just tales to scare children!" She sat down on an overturned barrel and held her head in her hands.

[Holbytlass]

I wonder where the grumpy old one and the 'innocent' young one are?

[the phantom]

I would remind ye that suspicion of that unfortunate-stirred up by a laddie remarkably akin to your ain good self-led to the eventual ruin of that wee hamlet.

Actually, if I'm remembering the story correctly, that "laddie" never did get that poor innocent healer killed, he merely suspected her (understandably since she acted just like a wolf), and when his suspicion turned away from her to the true culprit, he was killed in the night. Plus, I would add, that the lad was correct on the first day.

Do not fall intae Fordim's own trap and be sae swift to condemn.

Hey, now, I'm not one you need to warn about that. I'm not the one who's voted to lynch someone.

[Anguirel]

Perhaps they're afraid. Perhaps e'en now they're at boarding up yon doors and windows. Who are ye to cast aspersions on your fellow womenfolk, Mistress? Did ye catch any sound last night?

[Encaitare]

Now, now, what's all this nonsense! Ye young 'uns be quarrelin' 'mongst yerselves 'bout poor Oddwen?? What's all this finger-pointin'?? 'Specially against Miz Fea here, who never did nothin' but help yer sick! Why, jus' las' month she gave me a tonic fer me achin' old joints, she did.

Now, I dunno nothin' about her fella, this phantom. I'm not one te frequent a tavern, not at my age. Maybe back when I was younger, when we danced here 'til the moon wuz high... but there I go, talkin' nonsense too.

Think wi' yer heads, now. D'ye really think a young lass'd be able te do somethin' like that to another person? No, I'm thinkin' it's gotta be someone bigger an' stronger.

[Nimrodel_9]

Nim stared around at the bickering villagers. She was glad her parents were away. Her father had a sharp tongue that could sometimes lead him into trouble without him even knowing it.

Most of the suspicion seemed to lean toward Fordim, Fea, and phantom. Now, if any of us did it, they probably wouldn't be here, she thought. She was about to say so when she realized she could not see her friend Ainaserkewen anywhere. She could never suspect that innocent little Aina would do something as terrible as this. But I could be wrong! What if it is Aina? Perhaps I should just keep my mouth shut for once and wait to see what the day brings. She could only hope it was not Aina. She would hate to lose a friend like her. Unless she really is a werewolf! Perhaps I will just stay away from her. That way I can't get her into trouble if she is innocent. Let the village decide. Nimrodel was just so confused. What else was new?

[Holbytlass]

Originally Posted by Anguirel

Perhaps they're afraid. Perhaps e'en now they're at boarding up yon doors and windows. Who are ye to cast aspersions on your fellow womenfolk, Mistress? Did ye catch any sound last night?

They should be afraid, as all of us are; but I'm not casting suspicion (if that is what you mean by aspersions). I truly am wondering where they are. The 'innocent' part I used because that is what she calls herself.
I'm glad Encaitare came, we old ladies will do our best to bestow wisdom on this matter. Maybe not smarts (as in my case), but slow-thinking wisdom.
And as for, Ainaserkewen, I hope she does show up. So we know she is allright.
As for noise, I heard none.

[Encaitare]

I didn' hear nothin' neither last night. Me poor ol' ears ain't what they used te be. But now as I'm observin' ye all an' hearin' all yer stories, I'm wonderin' why Mr. Hedgethistle was so quick te accuse... an' te think of eatin' chicken at a time like this! Now, I ain't accusin' ye, lad, I won't have none of that till I think it's a good an' proper time, but still! In my day we had a little more tact that that!

An', Mr. Anguirel, I resent what ye said -- scared an' stayin' at home, my foot! But ye may be right in one respect. 'Twouldn't hurt us to lock the windows an' doors tonight in case the wolves come back -- if wolves it was.

[Son of Númenor]

After careful consideration, I've decided that we shouldn't be considering who's accusing who, but who's defending who. Now Fea has considerable reason to defend The Phantom -- werewolf or no -- as he's her husband and that's what a spouse should do; but Encaitare defending Fea seems strange, for insooth none of us should be defending anyone based solely on character. Evil wears many faces, as they say. That Enca would go out of her way to defend one person -- a person who has not even been directly accused, I believe -- to whom she has no familial relation, seems suspect.

[Holbytlass]

Originally Posted by Son of Númenor

...but Encaitare defending Fea seems strange, for insooth none of us should be defending anyone based solely on character.

I'm going to stick my neck out a little on this one. SoN, I think you do right in reminding us all not to base our defending someone on character alone. But I think Enca's defence of Fea is not suspect (at this time) but just Enca being a product of her time. When women were women and men were MEN. And she might not have known that when a person transforms into a werewolf they become very strong, even women.
I'm sure your own dear mother might have sayings or ideals that do not happen at this time. How is she doing?

[Son of Númenor]

She is not well.

A word of advice, if I may: Don't stick your neck out too far with werewolves about.

I am anxious to here more from The Barrow-Wight, and from Eomer of the Rohirrim. The latter has been awfully silent, a trait I have not known him for before.

[Ainaserkewen]

Aina looked up from her corner where she'd been crying, her eyes red with tears, staining her dress.

"Nim! Oh, Nim you've heard then, about poor Oddwen. There's werewolves! And they've attacked a villager! Oh, I'm so scared. Now everyone is pointing fingers, starting to accuse people who might be werewolves in guises. I don't know what to do!"

[Feanor of the Peredhil]

Encai m'love, how are you? That cough that's been ailing you... has it cleared up since I've seen you last? I thank you dearly for speaking in my favor, but I'm afraid for you if you do again. You may cause suspicion that I'd hate for you to have. Not on my part, m'dear, never, but these villagers... That Fordim Hedgethistle... he's been pointing his fingers and I wouldn't doubt it, his toes, for as long as we've been standing here, and for less reason than lies in the head of a newt.

I pray you all, do not be so quick to suspect Encaitare... our long friendship may cloud her thoughts, but she is more honorable than even I... not a tricksy bone in her, while I am quite fond of causing a wee bit of mischief. Not that I've done any recently... Except, of course, for a bit of teasing now and then... And I've heard rumors that she who shares my name in the village not far from here played a mighty game with her peers...

I suspect at the time only those who have gone out of their way to give me reason to. Yes, Mister Hedgethistle, I speak of you. While you may be emulating my namesake (and doing a mighty job of it, I should add), I shouldn't wonder if you have an ulterior motive.

Much as I hate to say it, I do not currently mistrust... no, I'll rephrase, since I mistrust him greatly. I do not, at this very second in time, think that Fordim Hedgethistle is a direct threat to us. He is quite bright enough to realize the dangers of the position that he's placed himself in, and... well... Actually, I'm not sure.

Allow me to think aloud, if you please.

Fordim could be doing one of many things.

Let us proceed under the assumption that he secretly is a furry vicious beast: Fordim kept close tabs on the situation in the other village, and has seen the way that minds work. That he has chosen to emulate the most highly suspected, and ironically, nearly longest-lived villager (a very lovely lady, I might add... I'd met her several times) fascinates me. He knows well that her purpose for naming names so early on was to get a jump start on the action. He knows well that a person's reaction well reveals their thoughts, especially under extreme pressure. He knows, most especially, that the lass was pure and innocent as the wind driven snow. As a wolf, he sees this as the safest persona to adopt. The villagers would see that if she was innocent, than so might be he. There would be no long hours of dissecting motives, as hers have already been [at least partially] revealed. Mister Hedgethistle's extreme boldness and, to be quite honest, prickliness, can be seen as innocence. Why on Middle Earth, after all, would a true werewolf be so darned obvious.

Or 'tis even simpler... He's a werewolf and wants us to lynch an innocent. Any innocent will do, but he drew our Innkeeper's name out of a hat, and so that is why he is doing his best to lynch him.

Now we proceed under the idea that Mister Hedgethistle is an innocent, although rather pushy, villager. He could simply not fear for his life, as he knows that he is innocent, and so begins to cry wolf, if you'll pardon the pun, just to see what happens.

Or, even better, he's the seer, and dreamt about the phantom last night. It would certainly explain his um... fervor... in the phantom's guilt. As well as his hastily gathered, and not particularly convincing, bit of evidence.

Frankly, I'm leaning towards him being a werewolf trying to hide in the open, but I'm not positive yet. I certainly don't think he's a seer, because no seer is that stupid.

[Son of Númenor]

he secretly is a furry vicious beast

That is no secret.

*murmurs from the crowd*

Oh, you were talking about him being a werewolf. Apologies.

[The Barrow-Wight]

The mason returned to the inn sometime after midday to announce that a functional gallows had been constructed and was ready to use should a consensus be reached on a victim. While sitting near the window ,enjoying a mug of Phantom Ale, he listened attentively to the arguments of his fellow villagers. As he had expected, no one had confessed to the crime, and people were wagging fingers and tongues. He smiled when he heard that phantom had imagined natural wolves to possess knot tying abilities, but he frowned greatly when he heard of the accusations that had been made. Feanor had the right of it by saying they were working on almost no information, but BW knew he must eventually vote for someone.

He noted the different methods that people were using, and wondered if they were tactics or simply personalities. Silence could indicate secret thoughts, but more likely it revealed indecision. Garrolous assertions could like wise show that a person was extremely defensive or at the end of their nerves. With little to nothing to go on, this day’s vote would be the most difficult. He suddenly wished he had an 11-sided coin.