|SAU 17: The Frosty Dozen
|Page 1 of 6|
|Author:||Tarbo [ Mon May 03, 2010 5:49 pm ]|
|Post subject:||SAU 17: The Frosty Dozen|
A calm, gentle breeze could not deter the sun’s powerful, warming beams this high in the mountains. The perfect, snowy surface descended steeply but smoothly, unmarred by outcroppings, and cracked softly underneath his feet. Tarbo stood silently, motionlessly, precariously at the very start of the hillway down, his ski poles firmly in his hands, and the slightest of content smiles engraved on his lips.
Powerful emotions still existed.
Anleth took a deep breath to slow her heartbeat after the long climb, and looked down with mixed feelings about their future endeavours. “I don’t know,” she mentioned when she noticed Tarbo’s unshakeable, downward gaze. “It looks... steep for beginners.”
“I still can’t believe you talked me into this,” Mioralynthia contemplated similarly from Tarbo’s other side.
“Just stay behind me and in my tracks,” Tarbo said, and his grin grew savage, his gaze even more determined. “You’ll be fine.”
“We’re going to race down a mountain,” she said with a tone well adapted to local temperature, “at break neck speeds —a very fitting term— on two wooden boards set on ice.”
“Lynthia,” Tarbo said, and he tore his gaze away from the snowy descend, “just trust me. It’ll be fun.”
You sit comfortably in the cozy, warm inn high in the mountains. From the inside, you can see the vast hills of snow and rock, the tall, powerful pine forests, and the gently falling snow crystals twirling through the sky before settling silently with their predecessors on the ghostly white, cold blanket. It is all as the brochure had promised.
Behind the wooden bar, a tall, gruff, wiry elf stands, cleaning the drinking glasses with idle determination and sense of duty. He is a man of few words and fewer pleasantries. He was not mentioned in the brochure. He is the ski instructor.
You gaze over the other occupants of the inn while enjoying your hot beverage; drinks, the gruff elf excels at. You pass the pleasant faces little more than a cursory glance and focus back on your moment of inner peace.
Then, the door sways open, and you see three elves enter the inn with varying amounts of effort. One woman, luckily light of frame, is supported by another woman and a man on their way in.
“Is this your idea of ‘fun’?” Mioralynthia says while being helped into the warm, inviting inn, leaning heavily on her associates.
“Well, I thought it was pretty hilarious,” Tarbo says.
Anleth snorts into a laugh, but quickly covers it with a cough when met with a gaze that can freeze her bodily appendices.
“What I don’t get is,” Tarbo says while helping the sorceress into a comfortable seat, “did you even try to dodge the tree?”
“You never taught us to dodge anything,” Mioralynthia replies, clearly not amused.
“I never thought you would aim for anything.”
Tarbo hid his chuckle only halfly and headed for the bar and its tender. “Never imagined seeing you doing time behind the bar, Cliff,” he said. “Teaching people to ski didn’t work out?”
“Bartender punk went AWOL,” Cliff replied. “I knew that asswipe punk would be as useful as armour in a swimming contest.”
Cliff was a legend in most senses of the word. He had spent ages in the City Guard, growing a reputation for excessive violence, colorful language, and contempt for lesser authority. He put more criminals behind bars, and in the hospital, than any other officer in the guard. Rumour went that the Black Guard approached him for recruitment, but that he turned them down. Too soft for him.
Now, he had a job as a ski instructor, teaching people to ski without breaking their every bone in their —or anyone else’s— body.
“You wanna drink or are you just gonna stand there?”
“I’ll have a scotch and...” Tarbo peeked over his shoulder at Mioralynthia and Anleth, and then turned back to Cliff. “Something fruity for the ladies.”
“If you don’t want alcohol, you can take one of these glasses and scoop up snow outside. You come to this bar, you get a real drink.”
“Fair enough. Red wine for the ladies.” Tarbo idly looked to his side while waiting for the drinks. He found, wide-eyedly staring back at him from mere inches, a pale woman with flaccid, curled hair, and a vacant gloss in her eyes.
“Cliff,” he said, angling for his friend’s attention. “Is she supposed to be like this?”
Cliff snorted contemptfully. “That’s one of Sacharund’s cooks on holidays.”
“Doctor Sacharund,” a smallish, rounder elf stressed as he approached the bar from the serving side, “runs a respectable institute at the beaches of our nation. He has booked several rooms to test his new treatment in fresh mountain air.”
“They let the nut run the nuthouse,” Cliff added.
Tarbo kept an eyebrow well over regular elevation while an impeccably white-dressed orderly escorted the gazing woman away. Tarbo’s eyes lingered on her for a while, but then he took the served drinks and headed back to his companions.
Anleth slammed her shoulder into the running, shrieking patient, and tripped him roughly against the wall. She considered she might have hit him a bit harder than was strictly necessary from a law enforcement point of view, but she didn’t feel like taking chances with these people. Not after she had seen the cabin.
An axe laid buried in the back of an anonymous skull that had broken in half but was still held together by the surrounding skin. Kitchen knifes, military blades, and a blunt pencil had all found their way into another one’s organs in alphabetical order.
Anleth had seen murders before. She could reliably tell fear from anger, passion from callousness, spur from calculation. But when she read the words bloodily scrawled across the wall, “They made me do it,” —followed with a calmer, “No, we didn’t,” in the same handwriting— she felt she had stepped into an ugly, stenchful world.
There had been a solemn silence while Anleth and Mioralynthia stood there. However, Tarbo carried different sentiments, and whistled, impressed, when he entered. He hadn’t really seen that much carnage in that small a room before. Did somebody tell a Maibd she looked fat in her dress, he asked. He didn’t need an answer.
You’re up early this morning. It is not really your habit when on vacation, but the ruckus in the far end of the inn had dulled your otherwise pleasant sleep, so you decided to get up and enjoy a good coffee. You can’t really tell whether the coffee is good, but you now know that caffeine, in its purest form, is a stark white.
When you are informed of recent events, you wonder briefly whether someone overdosed on coffee and snapped. It would explain how they had gotten as high as the ceiling, without a trampoline.
Mioralynthia straightens her robes. She has recovered well from her bark-related impact with Mother Nature, though her mood seems not to have warmed. Or thawed, for that matter. Such is the way with some sorceresses.
“The doctor has been murdered, and we haven’t been able to apprehend everyone involved,” she says. “Although some have surely escaped into the thenwhile night, we’ve also found your ranks... slightly swelled.”
You look around at the mention, holding back a scoff, and look over the other faces. Few seem familiar, and it dawns with you that you couldn’t reliably tell who you’ve seen before, and who you haven’t. Any one of them could be one of the frightfully calm madmen that caused the slaughter. Others have clearly come to the same realisation. But then, surely—
“We have no capable psychologist,” Mioralynthia breaks the silence. “The fact remains that, while we have caught some, we have not caught them all. Some of them are hiding among you. We need to find them, and fast.”
Mioralynthia nods once towards Anleth, and adds, “our captain will take whomever you nominate in her custody. She may not be a the capable psychologist we need, but she is a very capable interrogator. If you find them, she will make them talk.”
A silence fills the chilly morning air. You’re perhaps a bit miffed at the lack of ceremony but, in hindsight, what really could you expect from the situation? You suppose this is where you start searching for those responsible.
And so, recently awakened to the precarity of the situation in which you find yourself, you prepare to make the first moves.
With 13 players, 7 constitute a majority.
It is now Dawn. Dawn ends at Thursday, 20h00 GMT. People who have not posted by then are removed from the game.
Welcome to the Frosty Dozen! Okay, so there are thirteen of you. Sue me. Sixteen isn't a dozen either.
A note of warning: if Night sets in and no-one has been voted off, the infiltrators get an extra kill. That's right: if you don't pick someone at Day, they will pick someone at Night.
Regardless of whatever choice expletives you have in mind right now, I will refer to this as a gentle incentive.
Good hunting, and good luck!
|Author:||Draknir [ Mon May 03, 2010 6:58 pm ]|
Achar Maledict, the disfigured bastard son of a dishonoured and more or less dismembered lord, slicked back his greasy hair and scratched the inside of his empty left eye socket. After quenching the persistent itch in place of his visual organ, he slid the dark leather eyepatch back on and threw a lopsided glare at the others. Carefully keeping up an image of pseudo-intellectual haughtiness, Achar drummed the stained wood of the table with his yellow-nailed fingers. He cleared his throat with unnecessary vigour before letting his oily voice loose.
"I assume it is time for a round of introductions so that we know the names of those who we're going to lynch. I am Achar... the Bastard. Yes, the very same Bastard who put a gory end to the menace of the Rabid Mad Hydra in Clar Karond a couple of decades back. That was me. I was also one of the last to finish drinking after the Great Wine Flood of '12. You may have heard of me."
|Author:||Drainial [ Mon May 03, 2010 7:40 pm ]|
Gyla watched the goings on from the far corner of the group with some interest. At her time of life there was little indeed she had not seen.
'the mountains are so peaceful' her grandson had said 'get away from it all', well they had been peaceful, unfortunately for Gyla there were only so many nights whiled away in front of a roaring fire a woman could take before boredom reached chronic levels. On the whole then, though she felt sorry for those pour unfortunates caught up in the heat of things, of course, Gyla was not entirely displeased by this sudden living up of events.
Her hands never paused in their relentless knitting as she grinned at the handsome stranger behind the convening sorceress, then turned her understanding smile towards the ugly boastful lout who had seen fit to kick off the proceedings.
"The drunken hydra dear? No I can't say your name rings a bell, still never mind. I am sure we are all thrilled to have you with us.
"Now as for myself my name is Gyla, governess to the children of the Drachau of Hag Grief some time ago, now retired here in this peaceful wilderness." if her words carried irony it was subtle indeed
"Now I rather think we had better get on with this as quickly as we can, though of course we must wait for one or two of our fine friends to introduce ourselves. If there is one thing I cannot abide it is brutal murder, so as soon as we are properly convened we ought to begin voting, so as to shake loose any guilty secrets people might be keeping and gather a little extra data. Anyway, over to you." the old woman nodded towards another of the assembled elves, watching on with interest.
|Author:||Lordanubis [ Mon May 03, 2010 9:17 pm ]|
Next to Gyla, a younger Druchii woman sat straight backed as she regarded the rest of the gathered elves with pale eyes. Her hair was cropped short in the style of the soldiery and she had the lean, hard look of someone who’d spent far too much time considering ways to kill other people. But then that applied to most Druchii, and her black clothing didn’t do much to set her apart from them either. She glanced at Gyla as the other Druchii concluded and stood, hands clasped at the small of her back.
“I’m Aza,” she introduced herself, her voice bearing the harsh accent of her home city. “Lieutenant in his Dread Majesty’s Army and currently on leave from garrison duty on the Northern Watchtowers.” Her gaze was direct, if a touch deferential when it came to Captain Anleth and the sorceress, but certainly watchful as it passed over her peers in this investigation. “And I agree with the former governess. The sooner that we start looking for the killer or killers, the better, unless we’re eager to join the victim in the underworld.”
|Author:||Katash [ Mon May 03, 2010 9:40 pm ]|
Katash stared at the group with bewildered turquoise eyes.
“I… I didn’t know we needed to talk here” he said, pouring out more of the expensive Lustrian Nacocoa that he carried around in a flask. His curly red-gold hair providing a strong contrast to the heavy black fur lined coat he wore.
“I don’t think there is very much to go on so far, we can’t exactly condemn someone for looking funny. We should make establishing what everyone is doing here our main priority”
“I personally came here as I am currently looking for somewhere to serve as a home outside of the cities”
|Author:||Belial [ Mon May 03, 2010 9:50 pm ]|
Belial rubbed his temples. To the other elves around the table, the young noble looked hungover and trashed. Not excactly a shining example of class, even less so of the "higher" sort.
"While I am still not sure with what authority we have been assembled here, I suppose compliance is a necessity. What, with killers on the loose and all."
He spread his delicate arms, dressed in crimsom clothes that was at once expensive looking, yet also somewhat religious in nature.
"It must be the irony of fate, that I find myself here, for I have experienced similar things in the past. Bad luck I suppose... I am Belial, prodigal son of a noble house. My father would describe me as... What was it he said when I last spoke to him? A no-good troublemaker, bereft of manners and responsibility, I think it was. I have been a monk, I have been a drunkard...I have even been on an Ark, coincidentally under the command of mr. Tarbo. Yet even when I aim for the quietness of a holiday at a retreat such as this, it seems trouble finds me. Oh well..."
Belial shrugged, placing his hands on the table, and arching a pierced eyebrow.
"This might prove more interesting than skiing anyway. That is, if I don't find a knife in my back at some point."
|Author:||Drainial [ Mon May 03, 2010 11:27 pm ]|
"Or even a pencil," Gyla could be heard to mutter under her breath with a disaproving cluck, she had reviewed the crime scene, and rather wished she hadn't botherd.
|Author:||Deroth [ Tue May 04, 2010 12:13 am ]|
Deroth rubbed his eyes and yawned. "I am Deroth, a scout for the armies of our Great Lord, When I can get a break I dislike it when my sleep is disturbed".
Pulling back his cloak revealed a black leather armour with high boots, and attached to his belt was a flask (along with many other things), pulling it out he took a swig, "But as it seems I wont be getting much of a break here so lets get down to business and deal with our .....er, 'problem'. Looking around at the various elves scattered about the room he wondered what their stories were and what their reasons for being here really were.
|Author:||Raneth [ Tue May 04, 2010 1:48 am ]|
The Corsair left his room, the early morning sun reflecting of the stark white snow stinging his eyes and eliciting a disgruntled curse. "Dammit, getting up at dawn isn't my idea of a relaxing vacation." Drawn to the commotion at the main hall, he raised his eyebrows at the mention of Doctor Sacharund being murdered in the night. So instead of him taking the skiing lessons he came for, law enforcement had arrived to weed the killers out. The Corsair hung his head and sighed. "DEFINITELY not my idea of a relaxing vacation." However, having served under the Witch King for as long as he cared to remember, he knew full well not to cross the long arm of the Law.
It seemed all present had begun introducing themselves, and when the scout beside him (seeming to be in much the same state) finished his say he promptly fell in line. "My name is Raneth Vishar-Al Naïlo, but most people simply address me as Ran. I just got home from a slave-raid and thought I'd spend the money I made on something else then female company for a change." A short pause. "Looks like our first lesson will have to wait. Let's get to it, then, the sooner we've sorted this out the sooner I can get what I've actually paid for."
|Author:||Sidorio [ Tue May 04, 2010 7:10 am ]|
Sidorio took a deep drink of his coffee while he continued to gaze around the room. Yawning he placed his mug down before running his hand through his silvery hair. He'd never been too fond of mornings and to date they really seemed to agree well with him, despite the quality of the sleep he'd gotten. However this morning was particularly bad as the commotion has left him more in need of his daily caffeine dose than normal. Lifting his mug once more he took another quick drink as the others began the introductions.
While the corsair called Raneth spoke Sidorio cracked his neck, trying to work out the kinks form the previous day. When Raneth finished his introduction, Sidorio cleared his throat, signalling that he'd go next. "I go by the name of Sidorio Val'Koriaan and descend from the city of Hag Graef as one it's many slave masters. As much as I'd like to be able to, I'm afraid I can't lay claim to a noble birth or heritage. I'm merely the son of one of the minor merchants of Hag Graef. "
|Author:||Sleekdd [ Tue May 04, 2010 5:24 pm ]|
Sleek looks in his cup, finding the 'coffee' to be suspiciously white. What good is a bartender if they can't even make a decent cup of coffee without lobbing in copious amounts of cream.
A quick sip later made him regain any and all respect for the bartender.
“Well, this should be interesting,” Sleek says. “With us are one or more lunatics with a homicidal streak. By definition, we should be on the look-out for anyone who harbours an undiscriminating Hatred – maybe even an Eternal Hatred – or worse, sudden bouts of Frenzy.”
Sleek smiles, pleased at his own deduction and when met with bland or even annoyed stares, he starts to think it through, eventually recalling the new philosophy concerning recruitment standards.
“Never mind,” he sulks. “But I do maintain that the ones we're looking for will not move like the rest of the herd does. Try though they might, they can only pretend to be innocent and as such, they can be found out if the herd is brave enough to shake some branches and see what falls out.”
|Author:||Gramash [ Wed May 05, 2010 12:08 am ]|
''Well, I'm Gramash'', came from a small elf dressed in black. ''I was hoping to find a little rest here.
You could tell from his weary eyes and the stiffness in his frail body that he was not yet fully recovered from the long journey to the mountains.
''Guess mountain traveling ain't so healthy anymore nowadays...
Anyway we need to find these lunatics fast and then we can get back to the little rest and peace we have in our lives.''
|Author:||Kefka [ Wed May 05, 2010 5:52 pm ]|
Kefka stared down into the bleak cup that held his morning brew. He was awoken early in the morning and only had time to put on some comfortable pajama pants and a scarf. He sat shirtless among the others, some looking noble, others looking not so noble. Scars ran down his body of his harsh guard duty, and whip marks lashed his back from failure to complete said guard duty. But none of that mattered to Kefka at this point, he just wanted rest.
"Figures, the only vacation I can skit away from my guard post and I still have to play lawman. And for no pay no doubt. I guess fear for my life will have to do."
Kefka took a sip of the brownish white liquid and gave it a very disapproving look back before placing the cup on the table and shoving as far out of his reach as possible.
"I am Kefka, a Sargent at our city guard. I took some time off for once in my miserable life to relax. So much for that. Lets just get this done with so that I can try to enjoy the rest of my time here. I don't like waking up to blood, especially if it is my own."
|Author:||Tarbo [ Thu May 06, 2010 5:56 pm ]|
Introductions had been made. Mioralynthia went over the names and counted twelve present. One would expect her to make some reference, a remote pun, on the topic, but they would be mistaken.
“Heh, twelve,” Tarbo snorted when glancing over her shoulder. “Conveniently punny.”
Mioralynthia threw a cool, lengthy look over her shoulder. The comfortable temperature was clearly not her doing.
Noise and movement burst into the room. Cliff held a very vivid unknown elf by the collar and dragged him into the room. “I found this turd*** spying on you people.”
“Lemmego!” The elf futilely tried to wrest himself from the iron grip. “I wasn’t spying!”
“You sure as **** weren’t ****ing a hole in the fence, clapball!” Cliff replied, and threw him to the floor and Anleth’s feet.
Anleth raised an eyebrow and smiled invitingly to the elf on the floor. “Hello, Sassmaw.”
“See? See? She knows me, I’m cool!”
“She read the tag, ****head,” Cliff barked raucously.
Anleth kept her eyes on the newly submitted suspect. “After you, please.”
Sassmaw eyed Anleth briefly. His look settled on her belt and the sword hanging on it.
“Well, go on,” Cliff said. “Grab that sword. Maybe you’re quick enough. Maybe you’re lucky, and you can grab it before we bust your nuts in a knot. So the question is: do you feel lucky, punk?” He stared at Sassmaw a while longer. “Well, do ya?”
Sassmaw skipped his eyes from Cliff to the sword and back again. He passed.
“After you,” Anleth repeated.
It is now Evening. A majority vote will now lead to an execution. Evening ends at Sunday, around 23h00 GMT.
|Author:||Drainial [ Fri May 07, 2010 6:19 pm ]|
Glya watched the confrontation with Sassmaw with an air of interested politeness. As the tardy elf was led away her hands finally ceased their constant movement, tucking away her knitting needles Gyla unveiled a thick, red, woolly jumper. Folding it in two she calmly placed in Kefa's lap
"You look a bit cold dear, put this on."
She did not wait for a reply but rather turned her attentions to the group at large.
"Well it seems to me as though we had best get things moving if we are to avoid the somewhat... unpleasant, fate suffered by those poor unfortunates last night." she said, while fishing around in a bag on the floor for another ball of wool, pulling out a coil of royal blue she set to it immediately, only once she was settled did she continue
"Unfortunately we seem to be a bit short on evidence, since everyone has introduced themselves and no one decided to confess I think we need to shake things up a little, I think I will vote for Sidorio.”
|Author:||Kefka [ Fri May 07, 2010 8:33 pm ]|
Kefka looked down at the sweater in his lap.... how odd it seemed, someone giving a nice gesture such as this. Despite that, he placed it to the side.
"Um... thank you... I guess. However, I don't trust anyone here, and would rather not risk anything endangering my health. I shall get fully clothed myself once we are finished her. I mean no disrespect."
He then looked at Sidorio, and back at Glya.
"I know we have little evidence to go on, and I do support getting this council in motion, but is there any particular reason you are voting for Sidorio? Or is he just lucky and won the lottery?
If I am too vote, I would go for one of the members who have spoken the least. Given that few of us have said anything at all, I shall hold my vote for now, and urge all others to speak please. The more you say, the less suspicious you will seem. Unless you let something slip, then you make our job easier."
|Author:||Katash [ Sat May 08, 2010 12:17 am ]|
Katash closed the notebook that he had been scribbling in for the better part of the morning and glanced up.
"I think Glya has the right idea by trying to stir things up. If we were to presume that whoever these infiltrators are, that they would be spurred on by a lack of action and would show this by being more liberal in their killings. I think it would be a start to make an example of someone to keep fear in their hearts and numbers on our side. Through inaction we will certainly lose two of our number but with a risk we have a chance of taking one of them out. I don't trust a single one of you here. I don't trust Glya, though I do admire her proficiency with a pair of needles. I am hesitant to back up her choice of nominee at this stage as I would rather hear him defend himself first."
Katash looked at the elf who had tried so hard to seem inconspicuous.
"The only ones who know who is innocent and who isn't are those that we are looking for. We have to be wary of them trying to direct who we nominate but we should not be scared to work together. We can learn a lot at this stage and we actually have a better chance for survival if we turn on each other now funnily enough. I'll be watching to see if your intuition is right or wrong Glya."
|Author:||Deroth [ Sat May 08, 2010 12:35 am ]|
Deroth seemed to be paying great attention to the conversation at hand but the trick was revealed when his head flopped to the side and hit the table with a crash.
Recovering from his sleep related injury he looked around hoping no one had noticed and started "Well I think that we should start voting for someone for if we dont start narrowing down the field we will all die horrible deaths which is something that I hope to avoid on my holiday. I am also going to vote for Sidario. My reasoning is that if he is found guilty then we will be on the right track and will hopfully get a better idea of where peoples loyalties lie aside from with themselves, and if he is innocent then at least he doesn't have to worry about finding traitors anymore. As for him defending himself, im going to vote now and change my vote later if there is some overwelming reason to otherwise I will start with the great method of picking names out of a hat".
Looking around again to see if anyone else was trying to sleep he stood up to get a coffee to help with his problem of lack of sleep, "it's hard to find traitors when you are studying the inside of your eyelids", he muttered to himself quietly.
|Author:||Gramash [ Sat May 08, 2010 1:42 am ]|
A random vote.... Gramash knew there would be something like that. With sneaky weirdo's killing innocents and no information available, the only possible option was just to pick someone at random. Still it was an unpleasant thought: just being a randomly voted off like this. even though there's no way of knowing the right guys at the moment , still didn't explain why Glya immediately picked Sidaro just to shake things up. And immediately voting someone off before discussing it with the rest seemed a bit weird to him. It was either completely random and came from someone with no patience or it was based on something only she knows....
''I don't know why, but i get the weird feeling Glya knows more than she says and that the vote for Sidorio wasn't completely random. Until a valid counter argument presents itself my vote stands against Sidorio''
|Author:||Raneth [ Sat May 08, 2010 1:54 am ]|
Ran cast a quick glance at the one called Sidorio. "Must have made some good friends last night," he mumbled. Life aboard a Corsair ship didn't hold much of the political intrigue a noble court would, but he was well accustomed to the occasional backstabbing. Initially tempted to cast his vote on Zardock, who had remained suspiciously quiet during the ordeal, Ran now found himself holding onto it until the motives of Glya, Gramash and Deroth would surface a bit more.
|Author:||Sleekdd [ Sat May 08, 2010 8:17 am ]|
“Well, I was planning on kicking proceedings off in a similar fashion but it appears someone has gone ahead and did the hard work for us,” Sleek smiles. “I must say that my hopes on us making it through this are rising.”
“Now, I'm going to assume that Glya's (Drainial) vote for Sidorio is random, otherwise, the lady would have tried to make a more convincing argument than 'let us all vote that guy',” Sleek says. “It's not exactly the most thrilling and convincing of motives to see someone voted off, even though it might be enough seeing as we are short of leads in the opening stages of our search.”
“But you are providing us a bit to mull over, Gramash,” Sleek adds. “You openly question Glya (Drainial) but you go ahead and follow her lead anyway, saying you will move your vote when Sidorio gives a valid counter argument.
“I wonder what that could be given that none of us have much of a track record yet and thus nothing to fall back on as proof.”
“From my point of view, you seem to be both making the one taking initiative look suspicious and at the same time agreeing with her. That doesn't rhyme in my book.”
“I would like to know what others think of this.”
|Author:||Tarbo [ Sat May 08, 2010 9:54 am ]|
Tarbo pulled his chin thoughtfully while staring at the tally list on Mioralynthia’s lap. “Are you sure there are twelve people?”
“Twelve names,” Mioralynthia replied. “Twelve people.”
“You counted Glya twice.”
Mioralynthia snapped her gaze down to the list, checked, double-checked, and scratched a name. “Eleven, then. But I would’ve sworn there were twelve of them earlier.”
Zardock refrained from rubbing his gloves too conspicuously, comfortably outside in the snow with some others on skiing lessons. Cliff had just arrived to instruct them. He hoped his instructions were better than his coffee.
“My job,” Cliff barked while dropping a rough bag filled with metal near his feet, “is to make you people good skiers. That means you get to the bottom of the hill without breaking anything.”
Zardock held back a snort. He could ski. His plan was to get down the hill and quietly but definitely escape.
“There will be trees in your way. You will have to dodge them, and I have half a day to teach you how. Habblock, you’re first.”
Zardock looked around himself. Was he talking to him?
Cliff reached down into the brownish bag and retrieved a heavy, metal wrench. “If you can dodge a wrench, you can dodge a tree.”
In my laziness, twelve posts translated to twelve people posted, so... well... The story kind of explains. Mea culpa, mea ultima culpa.
|Author:||Gramash [ Sat May 08, 2010 10:15 am ]|
'' I didn't question Glya, Sleek. It's either random or based on something we don't know. In both cases it's best for all of us (except Sidorio of course) to make a start.''
''You seem like a smart guy, so please hear my reasoning:
''If Sidorio is guilty, then Glya must know something more, or it's a lucky guess. in both cases she's probably a good guy.''
''If he's innocent she could be a bad guy or it's just bad guess...''
''in these cases it's harder, she could be bad or she's just unlucky.''
''In all cases we have a higher chance of getting further than doing nothing and just wait who gets killed tonight.....''
''I think that the best course of action is to vote Sidorio off and base our further musings on the outcome of that.''
''I'm sorry Sidorio, but someone must be chosen, because indecision will probably be punished. It's true that it's hard to come with a counter argument, but if you can come up with one, i shall move my vote.
|Author:||Belial [ Sat May 08, 2010 1:05 pm ]|
"While we wait for Sidorio, I would like to point something else out."
Shifting in his robe, Belial assumed an upright position, flicking a lock of black hair away from his eyes.
"While it's all good look at Sidorio and Glya, there is actually more we should consider.
"First, let me say that I consider Glya to be innocent, for the moment. The two weapons the traitors have against us are silence and confusion. By keeping silence they avoid attention, and the innocent amongs us might be at eachothers throats, busy picking each other apart because we latch onto what the vocal say, instead of condemning the silent. They merely have to jump on a bandwagon here and there, supporting us when we choose the wrong suspects.
"With confusion, the traitors have to take an active role, attacking other councilmembers and presenting a good case for doing so, thus swaying the council and making the innocent do their dirty work.
"Glya is, in my oppinion, not the more likely suspect here. Indeed, I would rather question the motives of those that were fast to add their support to her. Random voting is a great motivation for discussion, since it, in theory, forces the accused to mount a defence. And a defence leads to discussion, and discussion leads to clues. But what we need here is not and actual conviction here and now - should that happen we will immediately learn the loyalties of the accused, but we will also loose any room for discussion we could have had. So for that reason, I will place my vote somewhere else..."
|Author:||Draknir [ Sat May 08, 2010 1:50 pm ]|
Achar slicked his hair back again. After intensely following the discussion, Achar had seemingly dropped his theatrical posture.
"I have Glya off my suspect list at the moment too, but then again I don't have any names on the list at all. Random choice is all we have. I would feel better if we made some progress though, and I'm afraid I will have to jump on the bandwagon and vote for Sidorio's execution. Something needs to be done. We need each and every bit of information we can get. There are no other options, really, and voting for someone else at random does nothing but hinder this possible progress. Sidorio might be innocent or he might be a bad guy, nevertheless we might be able to draw some conclusions about this group."
Achar went quiet for a while and took a long sip from his now-cooled mug.
"A bastard I may be, but I still wish to hear Sidorio's defense before placing my vote. I wait."
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