Tol-in-Gaurhoth XXIII: Journey to Hy Brazil

[Cailín]

Aboard there shall reside:

Four Werewolves
One Seer
One Hunter
One Ranger
One Lover
Thirteen Ordinary Villagers

The Wolves

The four wolves may PM each other during Night phases only. They will then decide upon a kill (and possible strategy) and PM their choice to both the mods before the Night phase ends. The wolves win when their number equals or excels that of the villagers (including the Ordinary Lover).

The Seer

Every Night, including the first, the Seer is allowed one dream. The Seer will PM their choice to both the mods and the role of that person is revealed. The Ordinary Lover will appear as an Ordinary Villager to the Seer's eyes.

The Hunter

The Hunter will take down one person of their choice when they die, whether this be by the hands of the village or the wolves. Their pick may be changed at any time and as often as the Hunter likes (though certain moderation is recommended for the mod's sanity). The Hunter should PM their choice to both mods. Added to that, the Hunter is in touch with the Ranger and they may PM during the Day, allowing them to synchronise their Nightly activities.

The Ranger

Each Night, the Ranger can protect the person of their choice by sending the name of this player to both mods. They are not allowed to protect the same player two Nights in a row. Added to that, the Ranger knows the Hunter quite well and they may PM during the Day, allowing them to synchronise their Nightly activities.

The Lovers

One out of the team of the wolves and one out of the team of the ordinary villagers have overcome the barriers of hairiness, deadly fangs and general bloodthirstiness and have fallen madly in love. They shall be allowed to PM during the Night phase as well as the Day phase. Should one of them be killed, whether by hands of the village, the wolves or even the mods, the other shall die from grief. The Lovers can only win if they survive together.

Other rules:

- You may claim to be anything you like while on this ship, but under no accounts are you allowed to give absolute credit to your claim. Absolute credit is both the publishing of PMs from the moderators or swearing on the Bible / your mother's grave / your copy of the Silmarillion / any other credible thing as the mod takes swearing far too serious indeed.

- Coded messages are greatly discouraged.

- Dead players are dead. Indeed, though this forum suggests otherwise, this means you tell no tales.

- All players should be in invisible mode for as long as they are aboard the ship.

- Editing is only allowed to correct spelling and grammar mistakes, fix bold and italic type, or inform other players of cross-posting if this occurred.

- No vote for two days in a row means a bolt of lightning will mean you shall be eaten by sharks. Very unpleasant. Avoid it, I advise you.

- There will be no double or mass lynching. In case of a tie, the player who first reached the highest vote count is lynched.

- Votes should be cast according to the following format:

++Cailín

on a separate line. Votes will not be retractable - once you have cast your vote, it stays there.

- The narration will contain no clues. No, really.

- Real life problems should be reported on the official T-I-G thread.

- Day and Night Cycles will run from 10 PM to 10 PM London time. Check the time of this post and add 7 hours to see what time this is for you.

NO POSTING ON THIS THREAD BEFORE THE GAME STARTS! All questions you may have can be asked in the official T-I-G thread. Roles will be sent out now.

[Cailín]

In a pub not far from the harbour, two adventurers sat opposite each other. One of them appeared to be a young woman with a less than impressive posture and guileless eyes. The other was of a different mold: an old sailor with a weather-beaten face and hands that seemed to be made out of leather. He had the voice of one who was a stranger in every land.

"You are certain about this?"

The young woman nodded and smiled a half-nervous, half-mysterious smile.

"I swear, sir. I know I can find the place. I only need some help. Or, more precisely, a boat."

In contrast to his, her voice was high and clear, even audible when she tried to lower it to a whisper.

"You have a map? Directions?" He sounded sceptical.

"I have everything we need to know. You will just have to trust me."

"I fail to see why I need make you captain." He leaned back into the chair and took another swig of his drink.

"Well…" she started, and as she spoke, a fire appeared in her eyes that strangely contrasted with her innocent features.

[Cailín]

"Have you decided which way we are headed yet?" asked Nogrod.

Cailín stared over the bow of the ship, squinting against the rising sun. "Westwards, I should think," she replied absentmindedly.

"Hmpf," muttered Nogrod. "I still cannot believe I am going to leave you in charge of my ship."

"Only technically," said Cailín. "Do not worry, I am a great sailor. It's in my blood. More or less. You know. I have cousins."

"And a girl too. A girl in charge of my ship," continued Nogrod, more to himself this time.

"Technically," repeated Cailín. "Oh look, here they come. I managed to trick quite a crowd, don't you think?"

She looked unreasonably proud.

--

In the morning mist, a group of wary travelers had gathered on the docks. They eyed the ship with some suspicion, already quite forgotten why they had allowed themselves to be lured aboard by the innocent-looking girl with the tall tales.

"Not very impressive," remarked Caranlondien. "I don't even think they have a bar."

"Aye. A ship with no ale is no proper ship," grunted the Dread Pirate Roberta.

"Aye," imitated Weslamond, her protégé.

Firefoot's dog set off barking immediately, snapping randomly in the direction of Roberta and Weslamond.

"This is all wrong, I tell you," commented Mormegil, shaking his head. "All wrong."

"Definitely," agreed Holbytlass. "This ship's too small to hunt whales."

"It has a plank," Gurthang pointed out. "A good ship needs no more."

Taliesin grinned nastily. "Captain's a bit small, don't you think?"

"Does this ship even pass by Norroway?" asked Sir Anguirel Spens doubtfully.

"I never wanted to get on in the first place!" wailed Lhunardawen. "I hate water!"

"I'm bored," came in Formendacil, while examining his polished nails.

Nothing to worry about as long as I am present," roared Sir Horatio.

"Hai," added Nilp, never letting his eye of Durelin, who was already reaching for her shuriken.

"Come on, my pretties," smirked Eomer of the Rohirrim, a rather shady looking character, pushing Kath and Rune forwards.

"Abomination," commented Friedrich Engels, glaring at Eomer.

"Where's the cheese?" cried Rune in dismay. "I need my cheese!"

"Oh silent, you. How can I think of a flawless, infallible plan with you constantly yelling in my ear?" said Kath, annoyed.

"Yoo-hooo," sang Glirdan drunkenly, tardy as ever. "Adventure *hic* here I come!"

[Cailín]

As soon as the passengers had all boarded Cailín and Nogrod made ready to leave port. With Nogrod's clear instructions, they quickly hoisted the sails, while the passengers huddled together uncomfortably. Some were already glaring at one another. The deck would prove too small for the large group.

A storm caught them not three miles from the shore.

"Don't worry. That was supposed to happen," said Cailín, her eyes shimmering with excitement. "Adventurers always get caught in a storm before they get anywhere."

Nogrod gritted his teeth and made no comment. After a while, only the pleading voice of Rune begging for cheese was heard of the raging of the winds.

As dusk settled, the storm lay down as quickly as it had appeared, though the ship still seemed to be spinning in every direction. Confused, Nogrod ran to the front of the ship, pushing several weary-looking passengers aside, and spotted Cailín, who was fervently spinning the ship's wheel. Every once in a while, she glanced at a piece of weathered paper she was holding.

"Cailín, let me handle the wheel. We need to get her stable!"

"You said I could be the captain, remember?" yelled Cailín. "Besides, you have no idea where we are heading!"

"Cailín, do not be a fool! We need to work together. You cannot steer the ship all by yourself!" grunted Nogrod. He considered for a moment. "It seems you cannot even steer a ship, period.

"I can perfectly well do everything. And by myself," said Cailín, while giving the wheel a final twirl. "There she goes. I'm sure fate will take us wherever necessary."

Nogrod cast her a disbelieving look.

"Oh, and I shall take the cabin," Cailín added. With a last look at the disturbed passengers, taking little note of Lhuna, who was looking decidedly greenish, leaning over the railing, she retreated for the Night.

[Cailín]

Captain Cailín's Log

We left port with 21 passengers aboard. None of them seem particularly interesting. Nogrod is so annoying. Where we are now? Tis a secret.

--

Night One has now started. Werewolves, you may talk but do not need to decide upon a kill toNight. Lovers, do as you will. Seer, please PM Nogrod and me with your first dream.

[Nogrod]

In the darkest hour of the Night, four creatures could be seen crawling the deck as if the ship belonged to them. Triumphantly, they gazed at the black sea stretching out in each direction. Their prey would never escape.

Only Nogrod was still standing at the wheel, muttering to himself. He had tried - in vain - to get the ship back on its original course. While he was trying to judge their current position by the stars, he had to conclude that they had indeed travelled far in one day. It seemed indeed to be further than he had ever travelled. Nogrod was puzzled. None of the constellations looked familiar.

Suddenly, he was disturbed by a noise coming from behind. He turned around, expecting to see Cailín coming to apologise, when he felt a knife piercing his back. Or was it a knife? With semi-conscious eyes, Nogrod took in the shape of four miscreants: hideously large, hairy creatures, part wolf and part man. As the larger one approached with his teeth bared, the brave sailor could not help but faint.

In the morning, Cailín woke up from a dreamless sleep. She blinked a few times to get used to the bright light of a day at sea. As she stretched out, she felt something strange and squishy at the end of her bed. She let out a soft cry. Sitting up in annoyance, she gazed at the thing that had caused her discomfort. Except it was not a thing. It was a mangled corpse, still bearing the marks of the sailor she had known so briefly, though hideously disfigured. His mouth was still open in shock and from the remains of his tongue dangled a crumpled piece of paper with a short note.

The real captain. He was delicious. You'll be next.

In spite of herself, Cailín screamed.


-------------------------------


Her scream woke the other passengers with a start. Some of the more alert ones immediately rushed to the Captain's cabin. They quickly took in the scene, several crying in dismay at the sight of the mangled body of the person they had really trusted to take them home safely.

"Oh dear," said Firefoot.

"Look!" yelled Cailín. "Look at the marks, the hairs! We have werewolves aboard, there can be no other explanation!"

The other passengers exchanged fleeting looks.

"Well," said Taliesin eventually. "I can think of one other…" He grinned, never letting his eyes of Captain Cailín.

"He is right," said Findeasea softly. "We overheard them fighting. She must have been afraid Nogrod would undermine her authority."

Slowly, the passengers closed in on her.

"What…," whimpered Cailín, starting to comprehend.

"You tricked us aboard!" screamed Lhunardawen suddenly. "You tricked us and now we are all going to die!"

"I didn't…," Cailín interrupted her indignantly.

"You lured us aboard with false motives and empty promises," cut in Lalaith. "Can you deny it?"

"Not completely false and empty," protested Cailín.

"There is no cheese on this ship!" cried Rune hysterically. "No cheese!"

"She's mad," claimed Caranlondien. "You saw how she acted last night."

"Besides, there is something basically wrong with the entire concept of having a 'Captain'," stated Friedrich Engels wisely.

"She is a wolf. Don't ask me, I can just tell," said Eomer of the Rohirrim with his usual air of casual superiority.

"Well, dear," said Gurthang. "Seems like you are going to walk the plank!"

Dragging Cailín along, the passengers left the cabin and stepped out on the deck. The young woman was hardly putting up a fight, just looking thoroughly annoyed and extremely sorry for herself. Sir Anguirel hoisted her up the plank and there she stood, gazing at the crowd.

"She's one too many on this ship," said Gurthang, approaching the Captain menacingly. "Any final words?"

"But…," Cailín said with her lip trembling. "But it's my birthday!"

"Oh, who cares!" came in Formendacil.

With one final, decisive shove, Cailín tumbled into the water. After splashing around for a few moments, the passengers saw her submerge. They waited patiently, staring at the calm sea below them. Two full minutes passed before the body of the once captain Cailín surfaced again, eyes still wide open. staring helplessly at the unknown sky. She had not transformed and all secrets she may have had drowned with her, then and there.

"Maybe it wasn't really her," said Holbytlass, after all had been silent for a while.

"Quite possibly," agreed Sir Horatio, glaring at his fellow passengers suspiciously.

"But that means," continued Holbytlass, looking decidedly uncomfortable. "That means that among us…"

Several others nodded in agreement.

"Told you it was a bad plan," said Mormegil triumphantly. "Now what do we do? We're lost and we have no captain."

"Someone must keep the log," said Durelin. "It's the sensible thing to do."

"I can be captain!" spoke Dread Pirate Roberta. "Aye, and a bloody good one, too."

"Aye," imitated Weslamond.

"To hell you can be captain!" yelled Firefoot. "You probably are responsible for this in the first place."

And thus, accusations began flying.

[Nogrod]

Captain Cailín's Log

We are in the middle of nowhere. We have werewolves aboard. We just killed the one person who had some clue where home is.

Sounds like trouble.

Signed,

Formendacil



--

~The dead ~
Nogrod – sub-mod, ripped into pieces of flesh and bones by the werewolves on Night1
Cailín – mod, forced to walk the plank at the end of Night1/ the beginning of Day1

~The living ~
Durelin -- eye-borrowing Jounin instructor
Caranlondien -- ships's bartender
Holbytlass -- whale hunter
Findëasëa -- Occupational health and safety specialist
Lhunardawen -- seasick reluctant traveler
Kath -- plotting slave
JennyHallu -- Dread Pirate Roberta
Lalaith -- Football Widow
Diamond18 -- Weslamond, the Dread Pirate Roberta's protégé
Firefoot -- wandering traveller with a dog that dislikes pirates

Gurthang -- Plank Operator
Formendacil -- Ne'er-do-well stowaway of snobbish, blue-blooded origins
Nilpaurion Felagund -- renowned Jinchuuriki hunter
Rune Son of Bjarne -- crazy slave, with an obsession for cheese
Mormegil -- the vocal nitpick who can find fault in anything
Taliesin -- criminal who was set adrift
Saucepan Man -- Rear-Admiral Sir Horatio Potboiler
Sir Anguirel Spens (Anguirel)
Eomer of the Rohirrim -- slavedriver
Glirdan -- drunken porter
Friedrich Engels (the guy who be short)


Day1 has now started.

Wolves stop PM-ing.

Lovers can continue PM-ing and the Hunter and Ranger may start PM-ing.

Villagers, start talking. There will be more deaths yet toDay.

[Diamond18]

Werewolves aboard a ship? Inconceivable!

(Bet you're surprised I can say more than just "aye," aye?)

We all know Eomer is guilty so let's just off him. And then drink rum. Sound like a plan?