[The Saucepan Man]

The Villagers rose late the next morning. Successive sleepless nights and the previous day’s successful lynching had drained them of energy.

The now habitual headcount took place in the common room of The Phantom Inn and the Villagers’ worst fears were confirmed when yet another of their number was found to be missing. Could it be that the Rich Merchant was on another of his lucrative business trips? Or perhaps he was still tucked up in his bed. Whatever the reason, the Villagers agreed that it was best to check.

Eomer of the Rohirrim’s opulent mansion stood slightly outside the Village, scrupulously set apart from the proletarian masses. Many had eyed it jealously in the past and were now secretly thrilled at the prospect of seeing inside the magnificent abode, albeit fearful of what horrors they might discover within.

But it seemed that the merchant was away on business, for the great wooden door was locked and no movement could be seen within. With a mixture of excitement and fear, a few of the Villagers hoisted a brick through a window and were able to unlatch it to gain entry. For what seemed like hours, they wandered down corridors and through rooms and found not a soul. Until eventually they came upon the merchant’s office.

The room had clearly been the scene of a struggle. Furniture was overturned, books and papers lay scattered about and great chests lay open, their valuable contents strewn across the floor. And on the desk sat the merchant’s fine brass scales, a pile of gold coins in one cup finely balanced with something red and glistening in the other. On closer inspection, the Villagers were filled with horror. It was a chunk of flesh weighing, according to the scales, precisely one pound.

It was not until the Villagers stumbled upon the merchant's bedchamber that they discovered the balance of Eomer of the Rohirrim’s body. As well as having taken their pound of flesh, the Werewolves had clearly made a hearty meal of him.

Overwrought, the Villagers returned to the inn (although not quite so overwrought that some did not take the opportunity to indulge in a little wealth redistribution before they left the mansion).

Living:
The Barrow-Wight
the phantom
Encaitare
Ainaserkewen
dancing spawn of ungoliant
Son of Númenor

Dead:
Oddwen (Villager) - slaughtered, plucked and trussed like a chicken on Night 1
Fordim Hedgethistle (Villager) - Lynched and hung in a flurry puns on Day 1
Anguirel (Guardian) - Carved up and barbequed on Night 2
Feanor of the Peredhil (Villager) - Lynched and hung despite her quick tongue on Day 2
Holbytlass (Seer) - Eyeballs plucked out and throat slit on Night 3
Nimrodel_9 (Werewolf) – Lynched and hung when the struggle was done on Day 3
Eomer of the Rohirrim (Villager) - Relieved of a pound of flesh and devoured on Night 4

Score:
Werewolves: 2
Villagers: 4

DAY 4 has now started. It will end once either a clear voting majority is established or in any event in 24 hours’ time (12.30AM GMT tomorrow).