Tol-in-Gaurhoth XIII: Enter Shamville

[littlemanpoet]

Originally Posted by Anguirel

We need to keep ourselves wrapped in earnest debate, lynching each other, while around us our comrades drop like flies. A well-tried and tested strategy, though some have doubted its efficacy...

And I shall do my part, preparing and burying the dropped flies with due reverence, speaking overwrought Jamesian at times, mayhap, and all the while pondering the words of my fellow villagers for clues to foul villainy whilst talking to and listening to the dead. Not that they speak back to me, but one of my profession must find comfort where one may.

*LMP thoroughly disentangles the corpse, straightening every bent limb, washing tear and blood stained face, molding lips to renewed (and less smelly) comeliness, speaking to the dead.*

Who are the dastardly villains who so mangled you? Is there some sign in the words I've overheard already? Is our jester hiding beneath a string of words? Our fossil hunter preaching to the proverbial choir to hide his misdeeds? Our goosegirl scolding our jester to hide her own laid egg of vehemence?

*The corpse does not respond as LMP continues his careful work.*