Tol-in-Gaurhoth XVI: No man is an Island

[Formendacil]

The ninth morning after Formendacil's death, the last villagers of Dol-in-Gaurhoth rose.

Malkatoj and Azaelia met each other in the square. No one else appeared.

"What happened?" asked Azaelia. "Surely the Werewolf didn't get Naria."

"I don't know," said Malkatoj, baffled. "Let's go check."

They came to Naria's home, and discovered that the Huntress was gone. Only a parchment note- so terribly similar to those of the Werewolves- remained on her doorstep.

"Dear Villager," it began.

"For there is only one of you left. By now, Farael is dead. And I was unable to stop the Wolf. It was foolish of me, perhaps, to claim to be the Huntress. Not that I am not a Huntress, but that I have been unable thus far to save anyone. At least Alcarillo died honourably. The fact that I am still alive speaks of nothing but contempt for me by the Wolves.

I am leaving- this village, this land, this world.

Good-bye."

And it was signed:

~Naria~

"Oh dear..." said Azaelia.

"Umm... yeah...." said Malkatoj. "What about Farael?"

Standing a safe distance away from each other, and eyeing each other suspiciously, the two women made their way to Farael's home. The last man in the village lay bloodied, but neat, on his bed, hands folded over his chest.

"Naria must have been here," said Malkatoj. She turned to Azaelia.

"Okay, Werewolf, it's you and me. Let's have this out now- once and for all."

Fear in her eyes, Azaelia fled the house, certain a Werewolf was behind her....

[malkatoj]

++Azaelia

(Unless this means the game is over? It should, but you didn't say that, so just in case.)

[Azaelia of Willowbottom]

++ Malkatoj.

Is the Wolf.

It's too late but whatever.

Here's hoping my death is good. Goodbye cruel world

School was my downfall.

[Formendacil]

Malkatoj tore after Azaelia, sword in hand. Azaelia, terrified, made it out of the village, and onto the rolling plains, hoping to escape the Werewolf that was surely pursuing her, and maybe make it back to civilization.

Such was not to be the case. Nightfall came, and although Azaelia still eluded her, it was only a matter of time before Malkatoj transformed, and had her faster, lupine form with which to pursue her. A lupine form with no tail.

And so it came to pass that the last, brave villager of Dol-in-Gaurhoth was felled by a Werewolf. Falling dead upon the tall, wavy grasses of Rhovannion, there was no one to see her die or to mark where she lay.

What befell the Werewolf Malkatoj, none could say. It was assumed that she joined the forces of evil in Mordor or Angmar. When she came at last to her end, no one knows.

The final episode in the life of the cursed village of Dol-in-Gaurhoth came less than a month after Formendacil's death, a fortnight after Azaelia's slaying. A company of Gondorian Rangers, and an old man in grey came to wooden palisade, hoping to find shelter for the night, only to find the burned home of Gurthang, the fresh graves, and the rope dangling off the great tree the villagers had used for hanging.

"What befell these people, Incánus?" asked the captain, bewildered. "You said that there were twenty people in this village, but verily, I see a good dozen graves, and there is not a sign that anyone lives here."

Incánus looked over the scene before them.

"I know not, Ingold," he replied. "But it was not a pestilence, else the last few bodies would remain."

"I'll have my men search the village," said Ingold. "Whatever befell them, it bodes ill."

Ingold and his men searched the village from top to bottom, and what they saw was disquieting, but what had happened remained uncertain, until they made camp in the village that night and Ingold fell asleep.

In his dreams, the figure of a tall Dúnadan of later middle age appeared to him, a bloodied sword in hand.

"I am Formendacil," said he. "For my sake, the inhabitants of this town remained to confront the evil in their midst. For I was slain by Werewolves of Sauron- people in Wolvish form whom I had otherwise counted as friends. Now all the villagers have joined me in death. Sleep in peace, Man of Gondor, for the servants of evil will avoid this place."

The figure faded. The next morning, Ingold sought out Incánus, and told him of his dream.

"Dol-in-Gaurhoth," murmured Incánus. "The Hill of Werewolves. That is disquieting, indeed, for I had not thought that such servants of Sauron remained still."

"Can we hunt down these foul beasts?" asked Ingold.

"I think that some of them are dead already," said Incánus. "These villagers caught a couple of them. But no, I don't think we can hunt them. All we can do is watch, and wait. It is only a matter of time before another village suffers the legacy of TOL-IN-GAURHOTH."

~Finis~

~Michael A. Joosten - WW XVI Moderator~

I'll have my Moderator's Analysis and Comments up sometime over the weekend.

[Rune Son of Bjarne]

I cannot belive that you let Malkatoj live!

well I guess she played her cards right at the end.

It has was fun not to be killed on day 2 for once, I was kind of shocked when I was not lynched. All in all it was a good game, allthoug kind of quiet in the end.

Lhuna you just have to accept that I know when your innocent.

actually I will save further comments to another time. . .

Great Moderating by the way

[the guy who be short]

That was foreseeable.

[Kuruharan]

I’m claiming a moral victory for myself. Not only did I completely peg two wolves but I was thoroughly suspicious of the third. If only certain people had listened.

Actually, after I was lynched I was convinced that Cailín was the werewolves mastermind who had done the whole thing. As it turned out, I was right the first time. On the whole it is probably better that I died when I did (for any number of reasons).

However, I do hope in the future that people will first look and act on the evidence before they start flying off the handle on gut instinct.