Mid-Range Game 43: Death Comes As The End

[Kasimir he/him]

4 minutes ago, The_Truthwatcher said:

So this was not something strange? Just a missing retraction right?

Yes. Can confirm this.

[theTruthshaper]

So, anybody have some ideas about what to do?

[Vapor she/her]

nope

[Mist she/her]

Lynch discussion! 

Striker, any thoughts? 

I like that Drake tried to encourage discussion. 

@A Windrunner, we've started. 

[Araris Valerian he/him]

Aralis left the study to see a crowd of former party-goers beginning to form and discuss the murder. One of Oswin's former classmates, a fellow called Watcher, asked, "So, anybody have an idea of what we should do?"

"Well, obviously we should sort out who did the killing and straighten them out, permanently. I'd wager it was that Vapor girl. What sort of a name is Vapor, anyways? People have really funny ideas these days of what constitutes a proper name. In my day, people had respectable names like the folks on the Survivor's crew. Of course, Augusta Christine and Mr. Holcomb, along with myself, were the only people I noticed in the study during the night of the murder. But I wouldn't put it past someone sneaky enough to do in Oswin under my own nose to not get noticed by any of us."

Then, feeling pecking, Aralis decided to find his way to the Kitchen. Lots of weapons there, and lots of food.

[Gears]

Augusta moved through the manor, making sure that she was far away from all the guests. One of them was a killer, so she wasn't getting near any of them. She knew how these sorts of things played out. Fingers were pointed, victims perished, and the pool of suspects slowly dwindled. She knew she wasn't the killer, but the other guests didn't know that. And of course, each of them were thinking the same thing. All but the killer.

How to get away... She ducked into the Growlery, hoping to avoid everyone.

[Vapor she/her]

Vapor, overhearing the conversation, scoffed. She was on her way to the Kitchen, and couldn't help eavesdropping. "Me? More like you. What makes you think it was me? And Vapor is a perfectly normal name." She walked away, muttering, "Araris isn't even a good name."

[DrakeMarshall he/him]

Aight first order of business: does anybody know what the storms a Growlery actually is??? Cause I sure don't.

Second order of business: we get to lynch today, with the benefit of having a cycle beforehand to analyze.

Idk what there actually is to analyze in mostly RP, though.

I'm also concerned by how hard it is to really protect against a hammer. Most D1 lynches don't see anywhere near enough votes to protect against that and idk I for one don't really love the idea of banking on the elims not wanting to end the game too soon. I'm... Honestly not sure if there's a good answer to this, or if there's something in the blackout setup that makes it harder for the elims to just end the game.

Reading back on last cycle...

Soft village read on TJ because they thought kills only worked in the same room and I'm pretty sure an elim woulda made sure to know how their kill works.

I kinda think most of the posts were NAI it's hard to do anlysis when there's no lynch discussion going down.

Uhhh @Lord_Silberfarben Lord_Silberfarben, what is your relation to Lord Talbot and what were you doing when Lord Talbot was killed?

[Vapor she/her]

A growlery is a place to growl. Charles Dickens coined the word "growlery" in his novel Bleak House. Probably inspired by Dickens, Frederick Douglass referred to a tiny stone cabin at Cedar Hill as his "Growlery." Frederick Douglass's Growlery contained a single room with a fireplace.Aug 24, 2017

 

It's called Google 

[Mist she/her]

But what is the practical purpose of a room in which to growl?

[Gears]

3 minutes ago, Mist said:

But what is the practical purpose of a room in which to growl?

Have you never needed a room in which to growl? They're quite useful. 

[Mist she/her]

I can't say I have. 

[+Lotus she/her]

Sophia was chatting with the gardener about his plants. All things considered, he was doing a great job with them, but he knew very few about their uses or names. She was just explaining about how the Vinflowers could use a more often pruning when a woman from the party stumbled into the garden.

”Lord Talbot! He’s been murdered!”

Sophia stood from the ground and frowned. Sure, she didn’t particularly like Talbot, but he was fine, for a Lord, and she trusted him to make sure that no one came onto the property during Elk mating season, which had unfortunately gotten a few of his servents, before Sophia managed to get them out of there.

They had even gone riding, once or twice, although he has not seemed to approve of her study gelding.

It was sad, yes, but who had killed him? That was a more pressing question.

 

[Mist she/her]

Someone screamed. Lumen woke immediately. She was used to it, from her time in the Roughs. She had fallen asleep in the garden, preferring it and her bedroll to the suffocating beds provided by Lord Talbot.

She immediately ran toward the scream, pulling out her gun. She might have to deal with whatever was happening. When she arrived, she found that Lord Talbot had been murdered. There was no one nearby. She started searching for evidence. 

[Vapor she/her]

After Vapor got to the kitchen, she heard a scream and rushed to it. Lord Talbot had been murdered!

[Wind he/him]

Sian heard the scream, who couldn't? rust that was loud! All the fancy folk took off towards it, well they could have their problems, Sian just wanted their food.  ohhhh, are those cinnamon buns?!

 

Edited July 7, 2020 by A Windrunner

[DrakeMarshall he/him]

Zachary Holcomb had a serious problem.

His problem was another ruined rusting party. Why did Talbot Oswhatever have to go and get himself killed? Rusting selfish of the man, if you asked Zachary. Now the murder was all people talked about. Next thing you know and nobody even wanted to hear the highly entertaining tale about what happened last Cladence between the scion of House Haught and a nobody horseless carriage mechanic, or about the rumored shady dealings between the Tenierts and the Governor to set up and drag House Gardre through the mud. And he had been so excited to discover that precious few guests had heard of the latest tales from Elendel.

But nothing killed the atmosphere of a party quite like a killing, it seemed. Zachary paced back in forth, agitatedly fiddling with the ostentatious aluminum cuff links fixed to his sleeves. Was it too much to ask that there was a decent party somewhere he could go to and just have a good time? What in the survivor's name was even the point of the murder? From what Zachary could gather, the man was near-universally regarded as a grand waste of space, so how was killing him anything but a grand waste of time?

Unless there was more to the story.

Zachary felt a spark of excitement at the prospect. An intricate murder plot would be just the thing to engross the rumor mills of Elendel! And him with firsthand knowledge of the whole affair, to boot. They would all want to listen to him, and any embarrassing scandals that may or may not have involved him would be mercifully forgotten by the wayside. He would have to get to the bottom of this mystery though, and quickly. Once the constables took over the investigation he'd probably be shut out, and his chances to salvage a compelling story from this mess flew out the window. Zachary liked his chances of solving the murder, though. None were his equal when it came to figuring out everyone's dirty secrets.

His resolution made, Zachary pasted on a dazzling smile as he entered a small alcove with a lovely little fireplace, a room which the servants had named the growlery. Most of the partygoers were currently engaged in histrionics over the murder, and he hoped to find a more levelheaded conversation here.

"Quite a stir back there, huh? The name's Zachary Holcomb. Pleased to meet you, but I don't believe I caught your name before...?"

[Burnt Spaghetti she/her]

There was a squirrel sitting in the dirt, sea breeze rustling the flowers around her. Her name wasn't really Squirrel, it was Amber, but her love for being outside, bounding from interest to interest, only ever staying still when a pencil or brush was in her hand, as well as her orange tinted hair, it was a nickname that her friends had long given her. Her pocket journal in front of her, she was peacefully coloring in a little sketch she had done. There were some delightful bright yellow flowers she'd come across, and a flower crown made from these flowers was in the dirt in front of her. 
"There." Wearing a satisfied smile, Squirrel put her brush down, admiring the little piece she'd created. Her peaceful art time in the garden was cut short though, as there was a sudden sound of commotion coming from inside. What...?
Grabbing the flower crown in one hand, journal in the other, she quickly made her way inside to the Lounge to investigate what on earth was going on.

"Whats going on in here? What happened!"

---

Because i'm extra and the whole reason i chose the artist role was cause i wanted to do art, enjoy Ambers/Squirrels first sketch for the game

Spoiler

 

[|TJ| he/him]

 That's amazing! 
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Loqlaw had just began to search the growlery when another man, this one apparently drunk out of his mind, startled him by entering the room and promptly passing out on the floor. Who are these people? I chose the remotest part of the manor, and yet I'm here with a fellow who's sleeping without a worry, and a drunk. 

Loqlaw continued to scan the room, careful to avoid the two others in the room. He picked up whatever he found useful, but still didn't have a clue as to why he was sent here. Nothing too important stood out for him, so he was beginning to get anxious. Just as he finished his initial search of the room, a loud shriek reverberated across the manor. He quickly looks to his fellow occupants, and sighed thankfully. They were still asleep. He needed to check out the noise. He did not want to be seen as hiding if something had gone wrong.

He rushed back to the main section of the manor, and noticed people crowded around the study. He joined them and looked in fear, for he was staring directly at the body of Talbot Oswin himself. Suddenly, everything fell in place. A horrifying thought crept in his mind as he realized he wasn't here to take anything. He was here as the fall guy. He was set-up, too perfectly in fact. Loyalty was never an attribute that was found often in his field of work, so he had expected betrayal at every point. But being blamed for murder? That, too by his contacts? That told he someone really important was at play here. He had never taken a life. No matter how much his victims deserved it, he preferred they lived through their embarrassment. He could feel the eyes of the other guests on him now, looking warily. Do they know he didn't belong here? 

There was only thing he could do. Solve the crime himself. That was the only way to get out of this mess, and he had to figure it out very quickly. He looked around as people were already dispersing. He particularly focused on a couple of guests. He recognized one of them - Augusta Christine, a famed author specialized in murder mysteries, and she was with another man he had heard people as Zachary. Wait! Didn't I catch a glimpse of them walking towards the study earlier as I hurried through the manor? And now they're going in the direction I came from, perhaps to the growlery? What if there are more than one killers? Are they going to plot in secret? Are they going to kill again? 
His mind racing with several questions, he waited until the guests dispersed, each choosing a room of their wish. Anywhere but the study. But he stayed. As soon as the commotion died down, he'd start looking for oddities. Something that stood out. He had an eerie feeling that he was about to unravel a thread of mysteries, and the thread began right here in the Study. 
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Gears, as I hinted in the RP above, you and Drake seem to be following each other into the same rooms. Seems like you've got something important to discuss. Like whom to kill next.  

Also guys, is anything interesting happening in your Room PMs? I've chosen a rather dead room (again as hinted by the RP ) where the only conversation is between me and Kas xD 

Edited July 7, 2020 by TJ Shade

[Coffeecat she/her]

ouch, last cycle's rp was with my character already thinking this was a real life mafia game.

 

Oh rust, now it was true, thought Nahr, he had been idling the idea at the start of the party, away from the other guests in the garden, but now it was true.

someone had murdered the host.

and they would not stop there.

 

To face the fear, the best way Nahr had found was to focus on something smaller, like the strangely grey and colorless piece of rope he had found tucked in a corner of the gardens.

He had read stories in magazines (he didn't buy them, his son did, and he only read them) about strange and mystical mages who could use the very breath of their victim to kill them, and left objects hollowed of color in their wake.

That was creepy.

perhaps...

what about a mafian role who uses this ability to kill, but only if they had found a colorful item in the previous cycle.

 

now his thoughts again turned to mafia...

that game, it was an addiction

[Kasimir he/him]

H'okay, another clarification:

Each player only has one action slot. Your GM PM should have told you your role, and what mechanic-relevant actions you can take. (As this is a RP heavy game, I also interact with RP actions, even though they are not mechanic-relevant: that is to say, they do not affect your action slot, and do not directly affect your ability to fulfill your win conditions.) 

Because you have only one action slot, you will have to choose what action occupies that single slot. Voting is not an action.

Some players may have been told via their GM PM they have additional mechanic-relevant actions they can choose to undertake. It is possible that more players may be informed they have mechanic-relevant actions, going forwards.

Edited July 7, 2020 by Kasimir

[Coffeecat she/her]

oh, i remembered

I visit the Study, perhaps find some paper to write my ideas down.

[Mist she/her]

The Garden is rather dead as well.

[xinoehp512 he/him]

18 hours ago, Gears said:

Augusta moved through the manor, making sure that she was far away from all the guests. One of them was a killer, so she wasn't getting near any of them. She knew how these sorts of things played out. Fingers were pointed, victims perished, and the pool of suspects slowly dwindled. She knew she wasn't the killer, but the other guests didn't know that. And of course, each of them were thinking the same thing. All but the killer.

How to get away... She ducked into the Growlery, hoping to avoid everyone.

12 hours ago, DrakeMarshall said:

Zachary Holcomb had a serious problem.

His problem was another ruined rusting party. Why did Talbot Oswhatever have to go and get himself killed? Rusting selfish of the man, if you asked Zachary. Now the murder was all people talked about. Next thing you know and nobody even wanted to hear the highly entertaining tale about what happened last Cladence between the scion of House Haught and a nobody horseless carriage mechanic, or about the rumored shady dealings between the Tenierts and the Governor to set up and drag House Gardre through the mud. And he had been so excited to discover that precious few guests had heard of the latest tales from Elendel.

But nothing killed the atmosphere of a party quite like a killing, it seemed. Zachary paced back in forth, agitatedly fiddling with the ostentatious aluminum cuff links fixed to his sleeves. Was it too much to ask that there was a decent party somewhere he could go to and just have a good time? What in the survivor's name was even the point of the murder? From what Zachary could gather, the man was near-universally regarded as a grand waste of space, so how was killing him anything but a grand waste of time?

Unless there was more to the story.

Zachary felt a spark of excitement at the prospect. An intricate murder plot would be just the thing to engross the rumor mills of Elendel! And him with firsthand knowledge of the whole affair, to boot. They would all want to listen to him, and any embarrassing scandals that may or may not have involved him would be mercifully forgotten by the wayside. He would have to get to the bottom of this mystery though, and quickly. Once the constables took over the investigation he'd probably be shut out, and his chances to salvage a compelling story from this mess flew out the window. Zachary liked his chances of solving the murder, though. None were his equal when it came to figuring out everyone's dirty secrets.

His resolution made, Zachary pasted on a dazzling smile as he entered a small alcove with a lovely little fireplace, a room which the servants had named the growlery. Most of the partygoers were currently engaged in histrionics over the murder, and he hoped to find a more levelheaded conversation here.

"Quite a stir back there, huh? The name's Zachary Holcomb. Pleased to meet you, but I don't believe I caught your name before...?"

Borzen Oeszno opened his eyes in the middle of a forest.

Ah, he thought. Still dreaming, then.

He pulled himself to his feet using a nearby tree and surveyed his surroundings. The forest wasn't too dense, as forests go- although, to be perfectly honest, he'd never stepped foot in a real one in his life. Too much nature for his tastes. Evanotypes were as much as he could handle.

In his right hand, he held a sword. It was made of what appeared to be bronze and had an odd floral pattern etched into it. Like one of my grandmother's cushions, he contemplated. Perhaps his brain was trying to tell him something.

All of a sudden, a voice began to speak.

"Quite a stir back there, huh? The name's Zachary Holcomb. Pleased to meet you, but I don't believe I caught your name before...?"

Borzen whipped his sword up into a guard position instinctively. "Halt!" he cried. "Who goes there?"

@DrakeMarshall (the sword is actually a cushion, by the way)

[Vapor she/her]

Vapor, sitting in the kitchen, looked at Araris. At closer look, he appeared to be Ookla the Curmudgeonly, otherwise known as Lord Heron. Oops, she thought. Time for some major sucking up. "Oh, you're Lord Heron! I didn't recognize you! You look so fit! I didn't mean the awful name thing, it's a perfectly good name! I was just wondering why you thought the killer was me."