Tulac, on May 20 2006, 09:58 PM, said:

Well that too,
but above all the performance and the song beat the other ones so baad... =P

(and uh... i saw your point on uk´s entry prej)

Anarchy online?
The main game is free by far ´till 2007 or so, (fc/s clever & useful proven i believe way of advertising) - & not that you´ll forget everything or even near, but your best bet to go if so -

edit, (drive issues * -)

DonCorleone, on Dec 21 2005, 06:10 PM, said:

And i didn´t even get you hanged for it

damn i suck at mischievious deeds

taikara, on Dec 21 2005, 01:07 PM, said:

Hey, atleast we were among the ones that took the roleplay very seriously, so ofcourse our characters had to be a little messy

(ofcourse you took as well)

but just wished to point out

stroggy (and we did stroggy, it just failed due to the lack of it

That was also the reason why i hinted to Tom that he would be the one to die on the next night, however, & i still wonder why strog decided to let it pass (or didn´t have time to send the pm to flop), which kinda ruined my dramatical leavance from the stage

(tongue in the cheek said, ofcourse )

taikara, on Dec 21 2005, 12:46 PM, said:

You should see our in-character letter exchanges for that point

(edit, doh, strog was first)
---

btw the seer was tom i believe, the sneaky bard

As the last minutes of the dusk were approaching, the old man rose back onto his burdened feet, smiling gently to the crowd beside him. He glanced up to the sky once more, this time, grasping the sight that he had been after earlier in the evening. And as he watched the stars above him, singing a song of mockery by their everlasting dance, he knew that the time was upon him.

Slowly he turned his face to the jester, and his smile turned into a soft, friendly grin.

"Seven crows in a row...", he whispered, softly releasing the words from his lips, as if to leave them playing their own play´, under the night-sky, that had fallen upon them.

He turned away from the jester, and glanced once more the stars above them.

"Please my dear friends... say my regards to the baroness... and the others who i see not among you now. For i am ready, and all will be forgiven...", he said, and turned once more his gaze onto the vast crowd beside him...

Looking down on the red snow, imagining the now already away taken corpse of the young smith within´ his mind, the old man replies naught but -

"Whether it´d be your call, as nothing more, nor less, you would except, I will submit", he utters with a barely hearable tone, whilst´ a lonely tear runs down from his left eye, of his now already saddened, empty gaze.

Slowly he turns his glare to the sky above him, and then again, returning to the harsh reality, he stares the blood-soaked snow infront of him...

Finally, the old man, raised his head from the now frozen plants, & centered his attention back to the villagers, & the corpse, within the far-end of his sight.

Excellent hearing he had. And as this was known, no-one had wondered, as he had taken distance from the crowd, as the arguing & throwing of the accusations had once again began... "masked pawns dancing around from hatred, a play by the god... For as the snow had been tainted with the blood of the smith... So would the hearts of these villagers... his friends... before this all would be over...", he had thought, and ventured into his own depression, leaving the arguing to the others.

Nevertheless, now leaving the plants to rest at their own peace whilst´ the sun would shine upon them, he rose up from his knees, & approached the others, the ones that had not ventured with the old madam.

As he neared the crowd, he saw few of them moving their gazes onto him, as if to wait for him to speak his own mind, for he had been silent the whole morning. This bothered the old man, for he knew everything he would say, would undoubtedly be turned against himself, if by no-one else, atleast by the trickster, who had seemed to gain some support on his brief stay in the village. A god of dances, surely he was not, but a god of ale & ill-ment rumors?

Nevertheless, he decided to continue, eventhough he was sure, that not all would like what he had to say.

"My friends", he began, slowly uttering the words with a harsh voice.

"I... I reluctantly have to admit... that I... among some others, am guilty of letting this happen so easily, and that I... was wrong...", he continued, seemingly trying to keep his pride, while still halfly having a regretfull tone to his speech.

"I... as one among few... denied to act, denied the chance of trying to prevent this from happening, belong to the guiltiest party of us all, & whilst´ i still, am reluctant to judge others without knowing them well, i fear... I as none of us... have no other choice anymore..."

He paused, moving his stare to the jester.

"And i have been blamed, accused, just in the similiar way as others have, for reasons i know not, for the jester has yet, to have explained them to me properly, or i have simply failed to see what is in front of me... But nevertheless, i accuse him not, of spreading rumors, nor of mischievous misleading of this crowd, for he is in the same place, same situtation as we all are... And now in this point, who we trust, and who we do not, matters not... only what we will decide...", he continued with a sad voice... though including a shuttle tone of content within it... for nothing had yet broken his turn... he could finish what he had to say... in his own pace...

He smiled, directly to the crowd beside him, in a manner of almost like seeing a crowd of long lost childhood friends, after a time of great misfortune...

"And i will cast a stone..."

"Not because i know him to be a werewolf as a certainty... but because he is the best bet that i can take on this situtation, without throwing another day in vain struggling against the harsh reality we are facing... And whilst´, may i be wrong or not, the world will punish me on it´s own turn for it, but that is, what is to happen to all of us... so i fear it not..."

His voice had turned pale, and the smile he had had, was now long gone. The seriousness of the whole matter had grown unbearable in his heart, but still... he stood with all the strenght that he had left, and continued.

"And alas, no matter how i hate to do this, i must. And the stone I cast is for you, Daniel Nicholas Evans"

He looked at the welshman with a serious, half-regretful gaze,

"However, i do have reasons to present for you all, eventhough they are less than would be hoped...", he carried on, while still keeping his mournfull gaze on the man

"You live a life of a hunter, spend your time in the woods, along with your companion, whether it´d be a dog or a wolf... they are of the same bloodline. You have never spoken to me, nor have i ever, until very recently heard you speaking our language to others, which has lead to me to two conclusions, that you have either hidden your skill on our language by purpose, or that you merely have disliked the company of ours, which as such... Is not a bad thing... but since your only companion is a wolf... and as i have heard rumors that you have even spoken to it, I am unable... to have any other opinion"

His voice had turned gray of its tone, and it was clear that he enjoyed not, having to speak in such a manner of a person he knew not... other than having seen him once or twice...

"And... the disrespect you showed to the recently deceased... was, was mockery... And eventhough, eventhough", he continued, raising his voice.

"Eventhough you others would ask yourself, would a werewolf fall into such a stupidity, clearly having known that it would raise suspicion around him... to take such action? I know not... alas... i know not..."

"And lastly, as you followed the baroness earlier today... my mind was filled with uneaseness, as i watched you leave with your hound..., & whilst´ i know not why i so felt... I will stay in my opinion... and... and god help me that it would be the correct one... ´till having my mind clarified of your intentions..."

This said... the old man grew silent again, fell to his knees, and watched the as the blood continued tainting the once so heavenly white snow on the ground...

"I... i agree with you stranger, but this day has proven naught but...", clearly hesitating to finish the sentence, the old man pauses...

"Naught but to prove a point..."

A smile returns his face as he continues,

"I have fond memories of this village & it´s people, but neither do i hold anything against you, nor the other strangers to this place, however, the pettyness that people have shown here today, shows nothing but, the opinions of each, & every one of us by others, unless... you... or anyone else here... in this room, has anything else but mere groundless accusations to make on a dweller of this village?"

Turning his stare to ceiling, he continues his muttering,

"While theories of accusations are good, they are still naught but theories...
to slaughter one of us... & from what i have heard from some you, there are two or three here... among us, yes?", grinning in a friendly fashion he turns back to the stranger -

"& whilst´ our grounds are still on guessing, the chances of slaughtering innocent people are still much greater than of the werewolfes... Though, whilst the time passes... it will be too late..."

"So dear stranger, what is your suggestion to this community... that would atleast somehow be of use...?"


--------
ooc Ranger = Stranger - ta for correcting that death, my bad partly

--- Slowly, hearing the landlords statement, the old man rose his gaze from the empty floor once again, burning inside with a fiery mind that had been awakened by the prepostorous opinions & speculations thrown in the small, now well overcrowded inn.

"Shush you fool, can you not see? - They are after blood! Each and every one of them...", he now shouted with a thunderous voice, voice of not an old man, but an angered youngster, struggling against the world, refusing to believe it.

"Fine", he continued - "All that my work for this village, my past life here, & still my opinions are disregarded as nothing but a mere mutter of a senile old man, or a werewolf at best, so i say, tear yourselves apart, feast on the flesh of your companions if it is your wish...",

He paused... as if to gather his thoughts...

"And feel free... if you so believe... my dear jester... to begin of me...", he now carefully uttered, halfly speaking not at all...

"To begin of me...", he repeated with a shattered voice, but only... to have it drown into the voices, shouts & accusations that were flying within the dusty ole´ walls of that god forsaken place...

mm...
I was thinking they´d be allowed to write of their last minutes, but this only if they had it ready & to be posted as flop would end the day turn, but after than, nuthing?
(if they weren´t around at the time)

I´d think some rule would need to be for that, atleast two or so? -
since having one only vote can´t really be a majority vote

but the initial decision is flops i believe

[edit] - oh, my bad,, misthought ---- )

"But... but what exactly are you suggesting my dear friend?", the old man mumbled once again hesitantly, joining the landlord in his plead,

"Because if you are going to the direction i believe you are... I am not entirely sure if I am comfortable with that..., for nothing, nothing has yet happened, none are yet missing from our fair group, surely we have no right... to fix that...", he continued, pausing then & glancing at the dusty floor in front of him, seemingly shaken by the very thought it...

"but... but i do agree... some precautions need to be taken...", he then continued, moving his gaze once again to the aristocrat standing still as noble & proud of his words as ever, nevertheless of the resistance it had gained among the crowd.

"But i am... reluctantly forced to agree... Yes... but whether it be a werewolf... or something... of not of such mystical nature, It is clear that our dear landlord is right, eventhough he due to his simple nature, naivily passes the possibility of the myth... something certainly seems to be pestering us, that would require...", he muttered, then ending the sentence before it´s own time, as if he himself had forgotten what he was to say...

"& the children...", he then continued, shaking the thought of the previous sentence out of his mind, whilst staring the aristocrat in a manner of almost challenging him deeper into the debate...

"Whilst´ in their own curiosity could bring their doom upon themselves even without this threat... have to be protected nevertheless, for i know not if the tales that fair Daisyfield tells us are true, but i have no reason to doubt him yet... yet, but if so, it has to be stopped... the children need boundries, atleast during the evenings... & the nights..."

"But of the idea of the militia... i have nothing to say, not for nor against, For i prefer myself rather as a... man of peace, & thus have no voice in such decisions... - But nevertheless... such acts are in your grasp... you are the... the landlord after all...", he uttered with a determined expression on his face, then freezing, and once more directing his sight onto the cold floor in front of him, as if he had ran out of the air to speak properly...

ooc /
nm

--- Upon hearing the mutterance of the old bookworm, & the jester... Wae´lyn slowly turned around at the now-gone entrance of the inn, once more turning his back to the outside village, & to his already late promise...

--- & now clearly perceiving the overwhelming agitation of the aristocrat for having his honest opinions looked down upon, he began speaking first to him, leaving the jester enjoy his moments of verbal wisdom for a while, though still giving him several irritated glances every now & then during his speech-

"My dear friend...", he began,
"Forgive my poor manners, for while I still have my own doubts,
you seem certain of the matter... & deserve to be heard... to an extend... Atleast... for your reputation", he finished the sentence, giving the old man a grin, that was clearly ment as a shuttle jest...

"& as for you jester...", he said grasping the wolfsbane from his hand,
"Aconitum napellus... would you like me to shove this to your throat? would you?" he continued with a slightly angered voice, but then pausing for only a few seconds to regain his smile...

"Not that i could ofcourse, the lifeline of my age", he muttered softly, grinning in a friendly fashion, then continuing, - "but you´d be dead... see it? But well... I agree... that depends on what the people of your youth see as dangerous"

"Anyhow, forgive my manners once again, clearly they were not as they should have been, & I will be quiet now... for the time... please continue -"

--- Upon finishing his monologue, the old man slowly sat down to one of the nearby tables, realizing the boredom that he had caused within the tavern walls by speaking for so long already...

"Oh hear yourself out kind fool, it is midday to be soon, sun to shine on our humble village - cease your overly beating heart...", a man in the northern corner of the inn, uttered with a half-tuned, calmful voice.

"For whatever was here, if anything, may very well be gone already, away by miles...", he continued, smiling, halfly trying to keep in his soft laughter for the very issue.

--- Slowly he lifted himself up from the table, took a glance on the aristocrat he had  referred to, & whom he had in his own mind marked as nothing but a clown for the extravagated seriousness that he had glanced around the room suspectively only a few minutes before, & then muttered out with an almost unhearable voice, "excuse me... rosemary... yes... i promised to take care of, someone inform me if anything else happens... now... have a good day kind gentlemen... & someone... tell that fair madam... to play not with poison... not even for medical care..."

[ooc /, since some fair errors in written are bound to happen, i trust those are freely allowed to be corrected, as long as they interfiere not with the initial meaning of the post]

That´s exactly why i used phrase "many werewolfes" death

besides, if it was exactly - historical i´d doubt we´d have many werewolves roaming around

(btw thanks Juni)

    The herbalist of the village.
Know for his vast knowledge of herbs, diseases & plagues scouring the land,
along with the respect he had gained from the healing of the sick in this, & the other nearby villages, from the times when he still had enjoyed the travelling by a great deal.

    He had also been known to be very old in his physical age for years now, although it was not because of his general appearance in public, but more-overly due to the rumors of his physical strenght & mentality weakening, that had been around the village for years now, & that some, but not many knew to be not far away from the truth.

    But nevertheless he had always continued to wander around the village giving his advice & help to the ones that needed it, &, or his expressed contempt & scolds to those that he felt deserved them. For it was what he had always been known for loving to do, & what he would propably continue to do ´till the very end of his life.

Name: Wae´lyn Fifthgarden
Age: unknown, 60-80 estimated *?
Profession: Herbalist
virtues: kind-spirited, helpfull
vices: judgementative, self-righteous

would be in, intriguingly enough, if that´d be alright?
& a turn (or two taking the night-turn into the calculation as well) a day would sound fine as well i´d think?