The bloodbath begins in earnest ...
Morning arrived, grey and bleak. The frivolity of the previous Day was no more, for the Night had witnessed grim and dark deeds.
The first sight that greeted the delegates was a trail of blood leading from Meneltarmacil’s hut. Following it into a nearby copse, they came upon a curious sight. A great Wolf lay in a pool of blood, panting and whimpering through his black fangs. The villagers hands went immediately to their weapons, but they were not needed. The beast soon died from his grievous wounds and, as he died, he transformed back into his human form. Meneltarmacil, ye Olde Knighte, had been a fearsome Beaste of the Nighte, but he was no more.
Their spirits lifted, the delegates returned to the village in happy mood. But it was not long before they discovered that two of their number were missing. In dread, they searched the absent delegates’ huts. The sights that greeted them there dashed their spirits once more.
In the first, they found a headless corpse, half-eaten. As they gaped in despair at the macabre remains, a cry of horror rang out and one of the delegates pointed to the wall. All eyes followed the outstretched finger, only to see the head of the missing delegate mounted there, leering lifelessly down at them. In his village, this delegate had been a hunter of renown. But last Night he had become the hunted and now a final scalp had been added to his trophy collection - his own. For all his hunting skills, though, Rune Son of Bjarne had merely been an ordinary innocemt villager.
No sign of the second hut’s inhabitant could at first be found. Searching, however, the delegates found sacks full of items that they recognised. Valuable items which had seemingly gone missing from their home villages. It was a veritable treasure trove. But where was the villain? It was not long before they found the answer. Durelin’s dead corpse hung from the rafters on the second floor. The delegate from Follywood had been a notorious Thief. Her folly, however, had been to pry into Nightly activities which she should not have seen. And those that she had spied on had summarily executed her for it.
The dead
The Saucepan Man - Slaughtered and boiled up in a spicy ghoulash on Night zero.
xyzzy - Got bored of the role-based banter and hung himself quietly on Day 1 (Ordinary Innocent)
Meneltarmacil - Fatally wounded in sooth he was and crawled awaye to find ye deathe in ye woodes on Nighte 1 (Werewolfe)
Rune Son of Bjarne - Hunted and added to his own trophy collection on Night 1 (Ordinary Innocent)
Durelin - Spied on things which she should not have seen and got hung for it on Night 1 (Thief)
The living:
Mormegil
Rikae - the naughty delegate from the village with the unlikely name of Castle Anthrax
Aganzir - the Dwarf delegate of a Woodsmen village
Gil-Galad
Shastanis Althreduin - the extremely detail-oriented centaur delegate from the Plains
Volo - the very hairy delegate from as far as it gets
Nogrod - the moody delegate from the Witch-burners' village who is ready and willing to form a theory to suit his feelings whatever the facts ...
Boromir88 - the filibuster delegate from Laketown, whose geography is not that good
The Sixth Wizard
Thinlómien - the Delegate of INSTRAW
Legate of Amon Lanc - the De-Legate of Amon Lanc
Kath
Isabellkya - the delegate from the village Kyaq
the guy who be short - the delegate from nearby Necropolis
Mithalwen - the delegate of an anarco-sydicalist commune, taking her turn as a sort of executive officer for the week
Feanor of the Peredhil - the slightly offbeat delegate who offers controversial suggestions to the moot regardless of lycanthropic tendencies
Day 2 has begun. Those who can PM at Night must stop. The moot is once more in session.
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Do you mind? I'm busy doing the fishstick. It's a very delicate state of mind!
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