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Alcarillo · 12-04-2005, 06:01 PM

An empty cart creaked down a dirty road at breakneck speed. Its lone rider sped as fast as he could to the village at its end. The midnight moon lit the path from gaps in the thick evergreens to either side, and more than once a root reaching from the darkness jostled the cart until its driver nearly fell out. A crumbling wall lined one side of the road, signaling that the village was approaching. And soon the forest stopped to make way for buildings, and the road plummeted through the village down towards the harbor. The driver turned along a street running across the slope. Relatively free of trees and houses, it gave a grand view of the harbor. Three piers jutted out into the water, all different lengths and with different sized boats moored at them. Beyond the harbor's black-cliff mouth thick fog masked the northern sea from view. But now the cart reached a tiny home at very end of the road, and its driver leapt from the cart. After unleashing the horse, he unlocked the door and entered the house, where he instantly lit a lamp, gathered pen and paper, and wrote in a hurry:

I have returned from Armenelos, under the guise of bringing the king his taxes. My spying was a success, but we now face grave danger. The king's men know we are here. Already now, three werewolves of Sauron are among the village-folk! I will take the news to Elendil as soon as possible. Meanwhile, you must protect the village from the werewolves. Each night, guard the home of an innocent. We cannot let the werewolves decrease our numbers to the point that they can rise up and slaughter us! This may be difficult, as there is an agent of Ar-Pharazôn in the village also. It was he who alerted the King of our presence. He will try to foil our every move!

But we have help. Our village is home to a seer. Each night, he is visited in his dreams by Ulmo. I do not know his identity, but if you can find out, use his visions to find the werewolves as soon as possible and lynch them!

There is also a mighty hunter in the village. He is strong enough to kill a werewolf with his bare hands! When the werewolves (or villagers, when they discover the werewolves) come for him, we can be sure that he will kill who he thinks is guilty of werewolvery, guilty or innocent they may be.

I am headed off to Andúnië at this very moment, so you'll be the only Elf-friend in the village for some time. I shall return with allies.

-Alcarillo

Alcarillo folded his letter and moved towards the door, but as soon as his hand touched the door knob, the door burst inwards with the force of a battering ram. Three shapes, like furry men, leapt into the home. Shadows concealed their faces from view. Alcarillo drew his sword, but one of the werewolves wrenched it from his hands and stabbed him through the stomach. Alcarillo's life flashed before his eyes: his childhood in Ondosto, meeting Elendil for the first time that winter's day so long ago, and the first time he met the Elf-friend with whom he would take turns spying upon the King. The werewolves fled into the night, leaving the sword embedded in Alcarillo's torso, and he slumped to the floor in the moonlight, still clutching his letter in one hand.

* * * * *

When young Dawn with her rose-red fingers shone once more over the village, the village-folk were already awake and about their daily chores. But something was amiss. Kath was the first to notice that Alcarillo was missing. She said by the docks:

"Hey, Alcarillo isn't nagging me about tax evasion! Where is he?"

This prompted a town meeting. The harbourmaster rang the town gathering bell and everybody in the village gathered at the docks.

"Alcarillo left for Arminalêth a week ago to deliver the taxes," the Saucepan Man said to explain Alcarillo's absence.

"But he should've been back last night!" said Wayne, "I asked him to purchase some more leeches for me while he was in the city."

"He could've ran late, perhaps crashed his cart into a tree," said Mormegil, "His cart was never very sturdy."

"But my horse, which Alcarillo borrowed, returned to his stables last night," said Jack.

"Then we can only go to his house and see if he is sick, perhaps," decided the Saucepan Man, "Follow me!"

All of the villagers climbed the main road up the slope, up from the docks in the harbor and towards the dark forest on the hills, on a pilgrimage to Alcarillo's house. The sky was overcast as usual, with fog in the distance and at the edges of the harbor. Seagulls sat in flocks on rooftops, and would fly into the air at the least provocation. The entire town had a tense aura of anxiety as the group turned from the main road and onto the street along the hillside, where Alcarillo's home sat. They approached the house, and the were surprised to find that the door was ajar; one of the hinges was loose. The group took in unison a giant gulp of anticipation of the horrible. What had happened? Finally the terrible dread was finished as those in the front of the group shouted in utter disbelief, "He's dead!"

The group filed into the tiny house, all gazing at Alcarillo's pale body on the floor. His long, shining sword had stabbed deep into his stomach, so far that the tip of the sword protruded from his back. A few of the ladies swooned at the ghastly sight. Formendacil reached for something in Alcarillo's hand. "A letter." He unfolded the paper, straightened his spectacles, and read in his official, office clerk's voice what Alcarillo had written, during which someone would occasionally murmur an "Oh, my" or a "Good heavens".

He finished reading the paper, and there was a short pause of silence. "So he was an Elf-friend this entire time," said Lhuna, "And the werewolves killed him."

"Then we can only do one thing," Fordim the pearl diver said, "Lynch the werewolves."

* * * * *

Dead
Alcarillo – mod – impaled upon his own sword – NIGHT 1

Living
Aiwendil – retired tutor
Boromir88 – crab farmer
Dancing spawn of ungoliant - embroider
Fordim Hedgethistle – lithesome and non-unionized pearl diver
Formendacil – disgruntled office clerk
Gurthang – (possibly unemployed) dockhand
Holbytlass – butcher
Jack – blacksmith and farrier
Kath – bum
Lhunardawen – polite little shepherd girl
Mormegil - repairman specializing in ships and docks
Rune Son of Bjarne – Union leader
The Saucepan Man - harbormaster
WaynetheGoblin – doctor
Wilwarin538 – fiddler

It is now DAY 1. Villagers, you may now talk. Werewolves, stop PMing. And Hunter, get a name to me by the DAY's end in case you're lynched.

12-04-2005, 06:01 PM	#2
Alcarillo Shadow of the Past Join Date: Jul 2005 Location: Minas Mor-go Posts: 1,007	Night 1 An empty cart creaked down a dirty road at breakneck speed. Its lone rider sped as fast as he could to the village at its end. The midnight moon lit the path from gaps in the thick evergreens to either side, and more than once a root reaching from the darkness jostled the cart until its driver nearly fell out. A crumbling wall lined one side of the road, signaling that the village was approaching. And soon the forest stopped to make way for buildings, and the road plummeted through the village down towards the harbor. The driver turned along a street running across the slope. Relatively free of trees and houses, it gave a grand view of the harbor. Three piers jutted out into the water, all different lengths and with different sized boats moored at them. Beyond the harbor's black-cliff mouth thick fog masked the northern sea from view. But now the cart reached a tiny home at very end of the road, and its driver leapt from the cart. After unleashing the horse, he unlocked the door and entered the house, where he instantly lit a lamp, gathered pen and paper, and wrote in a hurry: I have returned from Armenelos, under the guise of bringing the king his taxes. My spying was a success, but we now face grave danger. The king's men know we are here. Already now, three werewolves of Sauron are among the village-folk! I will take the news to Elendil as soon as possible. Meanwhile, you must protect the village from the werewolves. Each night, guard the home of an innocent. We cannot let the werewolves decrease our numbers to the point that they can rise up and slaughter us! This may be difficult, as there is an agent of Ar-Pharazôn in the village also. It was he who alerted the King of our presence. He will try to foil our every move! But we have help. Our village is home to a seer. Each night, he is visited in his dreams by Ulmo. I do not know his identity, but if you can find out, use his visions to find the werewolves as soon as possible and lynch them! There is also a mighty hunter in the village. He is strong enough to kill a werewolf with his bare hands! When the werewolves (or villagers, when they discover the werewolves) come for him, we can be sure that he will kill who he thinks is guilty of werewolvery, guilty or innocent they may be. I am headed off to Andúnië at this very moment, so you'll be the only Elf-friend in the village for some time. I shall return with allies. -Alcarillo Alcarillo folded his letter and moved towards the door, but as soon as his hand touched the door knob, the door burst inwards with the force of a battering ram. Three shapes, like furry men, leapt into the home. Shadows concealed their faces from view. Alcarillo drew his sword, but one of the werewolves wrenched it from his hands and stabbed him through the stomach. Alcarillo's life flashed before his eyes: his childhood in Ondosto, meeting Elendil for the first time that winter's day so long ago, and the first time he met the Elf-friend with whom he would take turns spying upon the King. The werewolves fled into the night, leaving the sword embedded in Alcarillo's torso, and he slumped to the floor in the moonlight, still clutching his letter in one hand. * * * * * When young Dawn with her rose-red fingers shone once more over the village, the village-folk were already awake and about their daily chores. But something was amiss. Kath was the first to notice that Alcarillo was missing. She said by the docks: "Hey, Alcarillo isn't nagging me about tax evasion! Where is he?" This prompted a town meeting. The harbourmaster rang the town gathering bell and everybody in the village gathered at the docks. "Alcarillo left for Arminalêth a week ago to deliver the taxes," the Saucepan Man said to explain Alcarillo's absence. "But he should've been back last night!" said Wayne, "I asked him to purchase some more leeches for me while he was in the city." "He could've ran late, perhaps crashed his cart into a tree," said Mormegil, "His cart was never very sturdy." "But my horse, which Alcarillo borrowed, returned to his stables last night," said Jack. "Then we can only go to his house and see if he is sick, perhaps," decided the Saucepan Man, "Follow me!" All of the villagers climbed the main road up the slope, up from the docks in the harbor and towards the dark forest on the hills, on a pilgrimage to Alcarillo's house. The sky was overcast as usual, with fog in the distance and at the edges of the harbor. Seagulls sat in flocks on rooftops, and would fly into the air at the least provocation. The entire town had a tense aura of anxiety as the group turned from the main road and onto the street along the hillside, where Alcarillo's home sat. They approached the house, and the were surprised to find that the door was ajar; one of the hinges was loose. The group took in unison a giant gulp of anticipation of the horrible. What had happened? Finally the terrible dread was finished as those in the front of the group shouted in utter disbelief, "He's dead!" The group filed into the tiny house, all gazing at Alcarillo's pale body on the floor. His long, shining sword had stabbed deep into his stomach, so far that the tip of the sword protruded from his back. A few of the ladies swooned at the ghastly sight. Formendacil reached for something in Alcarillo's hand. "A letter." He unfolded the paper, straightened his spectacles, and read in his official, office clerk's voice what Alcarillo had written, during which someone would occasionally murmur an "Oh, my" or a "Good heavens". He finished reading the paper, and there was a short pause of silence. "So he was an Elf-friend this entire time," said Lhuna, "And the werewolves killed him." "Then we can only do one thing," Fordim the pearl diver said, "Lynch the werewolves." * * * * * Dead Alcarillo – mod – impaled upon his own sword – NIGHT 1 Living Aiwendil – retired tutor Boromir88 – crab farmer Dancing spawn of ungoliant - embroider Fordim Hedgethistle – lithesome and non-unionized pearl diver Formendacil – disgruntled office clerk Gurthang – (possibly unemployed) dockhand Holbytlass – butcher Jack – blacksmith and farrier Kath – bum Lhunardawen – polite little shepherd girl Mormegil - repairman specializing in ships and docks Rune Son of Bjarne – Union leader The Saucepan Man - harbormaster WaynetheGoblin – doctor Wilwarin538 – fiddler It is now DAY 1. Villagers, you may now talk. Werewolves, stop PMing. And Hunter, get a name to me by the DAY's end in case you're lynched.