[Galadriel55]

It was nearing night-time, so all the people settled down in the abandoned houses. Eventually, most sank into a deep sleep. Only four were still wandering about silently, thinking, pondering.

It was nearing dawn when the four men happened to come together at a crossroads in the middle of the village, and they recognized each other, and they spoke quietly of what to do.

“There is only one thing we can do,” said the first. “Are we not the King’s Men? Let us ride fast to Romenna and alert Ar-Pharazon of this gathering!”

“Nay,” said the second. “That way we shall only do harm. The Elendili will miss us before we deliver our news, and they will know that something is afoot. They will flee and scatter, and we know not who they really are. What is it to the King that they have met, if they cannot be caught? Nay. We shall destroy this rag-tag gathering from within. We shall single out one of them each night, and the one we choose shall never see the light of day again. We shall be bloody, bold, and resolute; we shall laugh to scorn the power of the Faithful, for none of them shall find out that there are King’s Men among them, for all their strength in numbers and tricks of the mind! And even if they do – what fools! They are wearing guises! They would not be able to recognize us amongst themselves. Today I heard them talking, and they said that none of them know exactly who and how many are to arrive. We shall triumph over them and stomp them into their own confusion!”

“Faithful...” spat the third, “We’ll show them how to be Faithful...to our King!”

But... was there really no way the King’s Men could be defeated? Was there really no hope?

Of course there was, silly. Otherwise they wouldn’t make such a long story out of it. Listen.

Yet the third man was dubious and hesitant to join his voice with his fellows.

“Do you really mean to kill them?” he finally said. “Kill them in their beds? They are disloyal to our King, and deserve a punishment. They should be hanged in the city square for all to see what happens to traitors. But to murder them? I will not...”

“If you will not be with us,” the first man interrupted, “then you are against us. You are too lily-livered to deal them their lot. But we are not so; we are not afraid to give a supporter of the Elendili what he deserves. And he deserves no better than they. We start tonight.”

The fourth man’s eyes widened. Before he could make a sound, he felt a dagger strike deep into his chest.

“The first one is done, then,” said the third man, wiping his dagger clean on the inside of his sleeve. “Who shall be next?”

“We do not have time. The sun will be rising in mere minutes and the folk will be coming out of their shelters. We ought to hide the body.”

But it was too late already. People were waking and peering outside. The most that the King’s Men could now do is pretend that they have just come out too and found the body lying there.

The crowd gathered around the dying man. Someone asked what evil is come to this place. Someone gently placed a pillow under his head. Someone brought a cup of water and cloth for bandaging. But it was to no avail. They could not save him.

The man started coughing. He was trying to say something. Everyone drew closer to hear his faint voice.

And what did he say? Did he say the truth?

Be quiet, and you’ll find out.

“Elendili...” they heard, “not all of you are so. Fear to be betrayed from within, for there are three King’s Men among you here. Do not take off your disguises, for that is all that they need to find a place for you in Ar Pharazon’s dungeons. Find them and destroy them before they destroy you!”

Everyone was dismayed. “Who are the men? Who are they?”

The dying man’s eyes groped around the circle of faces, looking for the guilty ones that only he knew, searching, searching, searching... He was dead before he completed a circle. Three men standing on the outer edge of the circle exchanged meaningful looks.

The people mourned and lamented, but they knew the dead man was right. They had to find the three traitors. They decided to vote every day and cast a vote, and the person with the most votes they would lynch. Through talk and careful investigation they were sure they would be able to identify the three traitors among them. And they did not lose any time on hesitation.

Day1 begins. KM, stop PMing. Villagers, post! Isildur, you may send in a name.

ALIVE:

Morsul
Nerwen
Inzil
Lottie
Shasta
Manwe
PomPom
The Phantom
sally
Eomer
Boro
Steve
Brin

DEAD:
G55, the hesitant King’s Man (modess) – stabbed on Night1