Pirate Ship Mafia III [Concluded]

[Sooh]

I thoroughly enjoyed reading this game, and I hope to be able to play in the next game coming up on the site.

GH - I love your writeups! They had me in stitches multiple times!

[Csargo]

It wouldn't have changed much for your team because I had been telling Visor and the captain I would leave any night they ordered me off the ship, no questions asked. When I didn't do so I would always be the lynch the next day. I also spread it around publicly that I would leave if asked. So I did that to discourage myself from being recruited.

At that time, because Visor began suspecting the thieves, I was going to be asked to leave soon, so I felt like I'd rather leave now than wait much longer. It was a good idea, it denies recruits to the French. I also said I'd have to leave if I was scanned susceptible to conversion and not made into an officer, because eventually, I would become an obvious convert from the ever shrinking pool.

I had been playing a fairly anti-French game despite my lack of desire in forming groups and also doing vigs, I didn't even want to appear in protection groups because I wanted the fairness that comes with the ambiguity of having to trust the folks I said I had stolen from as being reliable witnesses to my own location, obviously, the French could have said they had stolen from a convert for example. It's risky but it's one way of blending in. The trouble is not enough townies did what I was doing.

I wanted there to be room for the French to do what they were doing without it being a simple solve by spreadsheet, but I also wanted to fight the French at every turn and find them myself.

I also wanted to accumulate gold from my fellow players as part of the sport of the game because otherwise it totally overlooks that mechanic. I felt like it needed more than a token nod from the players.

I get that some folks wanted to simply catch all the french by vigging and lynching as much as possible, and I don't begrudge them that, but I also thought that stealing and the bonuses associated with stealing should be emphasized.

I believe the folks who did stealing often got triggered an event just for them that made it much more profitable to steal, that one night, which encouraged them to not participate in night actions.

That sort of thing was really good, fun, and balanced- I think if the thefts were a bit more dire, as opposed to likely not being as good as a protect that did nothing, and people lost more gold that way or gained more gold that way, more people would have bothered protecting their own stashes and stealing.

As it stood, most of the thieves in the game were kind enough not to steal from the same person over and over again, and more people were attacking and defending, so there wasn't much worry about being stolen from in general.

I could be wrong, I know Visor got stolen from a lot just as an example. The officers are generally sitting duck steal targets.

After Ishmael died our VC was based on gold, so I chose you and El Barto because I thought you two would have the most gold. I don't know what exactly the other orders were for last, but we were planning to leave until BSmith got auto and me by killing him. We weren't sticking around.

[El Barto]

So, how came th' gold ratin's?

I seriously be no' savvy as to why nae one ever stole fram me.
-I collected money on every vote
-I received money fram twa wills (Curio an' Ishmael)
-I sold almost all me night actions
-I got extra gold for roleplayin'

Seriously, lads?

[El Barto]

After Ishmael died our VC was based on gold, so I chose you and El Barto because I thought you two would have the most gold.

This be unfriendly o' ye. I's sendin' Arrrskthepizzaguy ta repossess yer goods.

[Ishmael]

-I received money fram twa wills (Curio an' Ishmael)

Although in fairness, you only received 1 gold from my will (sorry about that, by the way!).

[Csargo]

This be unfriendly o' ye. I's sendin' Arrrskthepizzaguy ta repossess yer goods.

Why's that?

[El Barto]

Although in fairness, you only received 1 gold from my will (sorry about that, by the way!).

But tha' meant ye fulfilled yer deal -an' did outbid wee Visorslashie. Incident'lly, deals such as yers were wha' got AdmiralHankerchief ta pay me me bonuses fer host amusemen' an' consisten' roleplayin'.

Why's that?

Ye war covetin' our gold! An' also, ye be dead noo an' has left gold strewn around, we must repossess it afore anywan else do it!

[Visor]

I'd like to thank The Flax and presumably landlubber for their kind donations to the visor fund. Gave me a shot in the gold race.

[Zack]

Out of curiosity, who else here came from CFC?

You came from CFC?

[Zack]

I expressed this in private to some, and while I don't know the actual details of the role, just what Double A told me, TheFlax's role seemed problematic. The Captain can choose at any time to make Flax an officer, they both win, and everyone else loses? What was the thought process behind that role, because to me it looks... poorly designed, to put it diplomatically. Of course, Flax could have simply been lying.

[Golden1Knight]

You came from CFC?

Yes, but never played Mafia there.

[Zack]

Autolycus
How do you want to play this, with Zack wanting us both in the landlubber kill?

Ishmael
I think it might be hard to beg off the kill, especially since we're both on the same one. As much as it pains me to say it, we might have to go along with it tonight and delay recruiting Csargo until the next night phase.

See, my efforts that night weren't a complete waste.

[Zack]

re: "solve by spreadsheet"

I personally feel the delayed reveals fuel this. For example, the spreadsheet would never have been used to try and pin down the frenchman if ishmael was already revealed as such. And looking at the spreadsheet is forced due to a lack of info that reveals would normally provide. You can't use old-fashioned analysis because you don't know alignments, so you have to rely on other means.

Also, imo the delayed reveals are incredibly, unbelievably annoying, and no reveals at all even more so. I don't understand what exactly it adds to the game besides pointless frustration.

[GeneralHankerchief]

What was the thought process behind that role, because to me it looks... poorly designed, to put it diplomatically. Of course, Flax could have simply been lying.

Ouch, my secret roles have been taking a beating so far in this game! He wasn't lying, I'll address my thinking behind that one as well when I get to it. For now, though, I have an epilogue to finish.

[Zack]

That reminds me: Sprig's "mercenary" role was completely fake. Major credit to him for coming up with an innovative way to get more gold, and major credit to Myrddraal as well for not only running with it, but faking a PM for it too!

Okay, I'd like to clear something up on my gold.

In the interests of complete transparency, my handover PM from GH states that the payments so far went as follows:

N1: Visor
N2: Zack
N3: No payment received (attack failed)
N4: Zack
N5: Ishmael
N6: BSmith initially sent payment, but cancelled the transaction when it became clear that the group wasn't going to be a success (attack failed)

I never paid Sprig on Night 4. I paid him Night 2:

I, along with Sprig, Ishmael, and Golden1Knight, will kill seireikhaan.

I give Sprig five gold for his participation.

I am also working with BSmith on this kill.

But I was not working directly with him n4 and did not send an order to pay him. He paid me back the five gold I gave him n2:

5 golf for Zack for doing the services of not voting for me

Do you accept?

So Sprig and I should have a net neutral exchange as far as gold goes.

[Visor]

Sprig also offered to pay me back 5 gold, but I could not be bothered.

[GeneralHankerchief]

My bad, yeah, autolycus paid Sprig N4. I saw the Sprig/Zack transaction in my records for that night when I sent Myrddraal his orientation PM and didn't bother to check which way the gold was flowing.

[El Barto]

Sprig also offered to pay me back 5 gold, but I could not be bothered.

But it be five doubloons!

[GeneralHankerchief]

Epilogue

Yet Another Fine Morning in Nassau

Eight of them stepped off the Presence that morning, still looking a bit dazed at the turn of events that had taken them there, but overall they had varying looks of contentment on their faces. After all, despite their individual journeys to get there, each of them had two immutable things in common: One, that they were alive, and two, that they were rich. They looked to take advantage of both of these new facts of life in Nassau immediately.


Myrddraal, with 175 treasure to his name, made sure to set up camp in a bar far from the main district of town. The reason for this was that he had fabricated an entire backstory aboard the Presence about him being a well-known mercenary who required payment before he killed anyone at night. The rest of the crewmen had bought this and thus paid up pretty much every night aboard, giving him a sizeable total that would have been even larger had more of his murders gone through successfully.

While Myrddraal may not have had any mercenary talents whatsoever, one of the talents he *did* have was a sense of when to get out while he still could. He knew on the final day that the fabrication had been close to falling apart. He knew that greater scrutiny fell upon him, that his story would not hold up to it and the rest of the crew would assume the worst. He knew that it was time to bid his crewmates farewell. A very brief farewell, at that.

So Myrddraal sat in a relatively empty bar, sipping on his ale and ruminating over the events that had transpired for the past week-plus with a smile on his face in spite of everything. Yes, the crew would have figured out by now that he wasn't actually a mercenary. But really, who cared? He had enough treasure now to hire *real* mercenaries if anybody came after him. Life was good.


Closer to the center of town, in the main tavern, several of the crewmen gathered there to make their merriment, including Golden1Knight and Zack. The two had been allies for a short while, killing together on more than one occasion and Zack dissuading other groups from going after Golden at night, but like all things on the Presence, their alliance was fleeting, taking different approaches to finding the Frenchman during the day. However, gold and rum served to reignite all friendships, and soon the two of them were drinking and laughing again like nothing had happened. Double A would have joined in, but he was once again napping, having emptied out his entire sack of gold and used it as a very rough bed. Double A hadn't been the most active of Captains, but his steady leadership and refusal to change course in the heat of the moment certainly served the Presence well in the end, as even further chaos might have turned the tide in the Frenchman's favor. In his mind, Double A completely deserved the rest he was getting... his lavishly-displayed rest.

Elsewhere in the same same bar was Anne the Tavern Wench, BSmith, for once taking part in the festivities instead of seeing that they didn't get too rowdy. Anne, seizing an opportunity when she saw it back in New Tortuga, had made the most of her time aboard. And while she didn't quite succeed in her goal of becoming the most famous pirate in this part of the world, she certainly made a name for herself among the rest of the crewmen with her skills with a harpoon, fancy cutlass, and general proclivity to kill just for clothes. She would be treated with respect in certain circles from now on, and that, at least, was a start.

BSmith sat, drank, laughed, drank some more, and splashed ale (only the cheap kind, obviously) in the faces of anyone who tried to hit on her for the entire night, secure in her superiority. The Presence had been full of danger, but it was also a great start to her new life of adventuring.


The Officer's Club had always been the swankiest tavern in Nassau, the one bastion of Old World rationality and class superiority in the pirate haven. Reserved for the various captains and their lieutenants that called Nassau their main port-of-call, it provided a refuge for those who needed to step outside the boisterousness and raucous behavior of the main taverns and think. It was no surprise, then, to find Montmorency and dcmort93 make their way there at some point in the day after they got the initial partying vibe out of their systems.

At first, Monty wasn't sure if he was going to be allowed in. He was Captain upon the Presence's docking, yes, but he had also been somewhat poor. Being stolen from on multiple nights on board (including a staggering 33 gold on Night 6), not being entirely successful in his group killings, and spending lots of money in bribes in order to make his beloved Operation Blenheim go off without a hitch, Monty's gold had hovered around its starting total only one day before. But then, he struck some luck at last on the final day. First, he got elected Captain, with all of the salary benefits it provided. Secondly, he ended up being the sole benefactor of Csargo's will, receiving a cool 50 gold just because BSmith had chopped autolycus's head off with that fancy cutlass. As a result, Monty was sitting on a far more respectable 174 gold at the start of the day, definitely enough to enjoy the full benefits of the Officer's Club for quite some time.

dcmort, having been First Mate for a week, was much richer, but he didn't rub it in much. They were both in too contemplative of moods anyway. It had been a hectic ride for dcmort - a closely-contested Captaincy election, the mutiny which put him in as First Mate, trying to do good at night by figuring out who was French, trying to balance it with placating the town with his scans, a mild identity crisis in which he felt like he switched personalities about halfway through the voyage - yes, dcmort had had a heck of a trip, indeed. And now, as he returned the suggestive smiles of two buxom wenches, he figured he was going to have a heck of a night.


Elsewhere in the North Atlantic...


Ironside had found land fairly quickly, a deserted, medium-sized island that was clearly around the southernmost part of the Bahamas. At first, he was going to use it strictly as a resupply point before he continued his journey to civilization. But the more time he spent on that island, the more he realized two things. First, he really did not feel like rowing that cursed dinghy any further, especially not the night after that hurricane. Secondly, this island was actually not bad. Sure, it was deserted, but it had protection from the elements, a good source of fish nearby, and fertile farmland.

With time, this island could become a self-sustaining habitat for Ironside. The fish would sustain him until his first supply of crops were ready. In the meantime, the solitude would be good for him - he could reflect on his actions, and the fact that sometimes there were more important things than gold.


Choxorn, meanwhile, had found a good wind and followed it... and eventually found himself right back in New Tortuga, where the adventure of theirs had started. Cautiously making his way into the town and looking around, he find it to be more or less the same as it had been, although certainly a bit quieter than usual. Eventually Choxorn worked up the nerve to visit the tavern (alas, a certain favorite tavern wench of his wasn't working there when he walked in) and asked for some information.

"Ah yeah, the French scare about a week or two back?" the bartender said. "Aye, that was a bit o' a weird one, but all fer nothin' really. The bit of news that got all them pirates scurrying around and taking our stuff turned out to be a complete fake - there wasn't no French navy in sight. Methinks somebody used it as a big diversion or cover fer somethin' else, certainly someone more crafty than me anyway. Can't imagine what for, though. Anyways, we be takin' it in stride and spreadin' the world that New Tortuga still be open for business! We'll recover, laddie, don't you worry about that."

Choxorn nodded his thanks and stepped outside to take this news in. The French attack on New Tortuga a fabrication? Cover for something else? What on earth was going on around here?

The world was a weird and complicated place, he decided, and then went back inside to partake in the activity that usually made everything simpler for him. He ordered a drink.


After some hard rowing, Askthepizzaguy and El Barto reached Nassau about 15 hours after the Presence did, truly an accomplishment considering they had abandoned ship more than 24 hours before docking and only were in a dinghy as opposed to a sloop or any sort of real ship. It was the dead of night, but this had never stopped the people of Nassau from getting their party on in the past, and judging by the sounds emanating from the main district of the town, it wasn't stopping them tonight, either. They looked at each other and grinned.

"Party be windin' down, boys," said a dockworker who passed them by. "All the taverns in the area just ran completely out o' everything. Most of the revelers be nursin' what's left and then nodding off."

"Ah, hellfire!" Pizza said, clearly annoyed. "We up and missed the party! I told you you should have taken more turns rowing, ye had me totally exhausted by the end! Why'd I have to do most of the rowing, anyway?"

"Because, my lad," said El Barto, "I have more gold than ye! Money talks, aye? Ye should have learned that from me if nothing else. Anyways, no matter. My cousin's got a bank around here but I wanna keep you sober for another idea o' mine. It's guaranteed to make us even richer than me cousin and more popular with the locals. All we need is a bit o' capital investment, supplied mostly by you of course."

"What be this idea of yours?"

"Simple: A casino!"

A casino! In a pirate haven like Nassau, that would work almost too well. Pizza was instantly enamored. "I'm in," he said.

"Great! I'll be the owner an' big idea man, and ye can be the manager overseeing the mundane day-to-day affairs!"

"Waitaminute, why do you get to have the cool title while you leave me to be stuck with all the grunt work?" They paused for a bit, admiring the inanity of the question, before Pizza supplied the answer to his own question. "Because you have more gold than me, right."


Visorslash had eventually left all the taverns - including the Officer's Club - behind, saying his goodbyes and taking in the sights of the town, passing Pizza and El Barto by and nodding his greeting. His eight days and nights aboard the Presence had certainly been eventful, and he appreciated the need for solitude. It was fair to see that Visor had gotten the full Presence experience - having engineered a mutiny, becoming Quartermaster, working hard to find the Frenchman, having a bounty openly placed on his head, getting in an hours-long argument about the semantics of rounding, experiencing the joy of finding out that one of his targets was indeed working for the Frenchman, and now feeling utter relief that it was finally over, that they were all safe.

Visor had definitely made some enemies aboard, but a lot of them were dead. And he had made some friends too, especially the kind that left him money in their wills. Despite being stolen from on multiple occasions, these wills had left him the leader in terms of treasure among the survivors, to a cool total of 336.

He would spend it, obviously, but eventually. For now, this evening, he was content to walk around and take it all in. It was 1723 and piracy was clearly on the downswing, but for at least one night it remained alive and well. Regardless of the Presence's fate, that alone was cause for celebration. With this fact in mind, Visor walked back into the tavern, loudly greeted everyone hello, and called for a round of ale on him.





Coda



Ishmael, the Frenchman, was in parts unknown, starving, dehydrated, and bleeding from multiple wounds. The number of slashes he had taken meant that his initial dip in the Atlantic after being tossed overboard was extraordinarily painful, but even that had numbed over the next several days. He vaguely remembered a cannon going off an instant he went over, depositing a large chunk of wood into the ocean next to him. Ishmael had been clinging to this piece for dear life for several days now.

Floating in the ocean, too weak to attempt to paddle or steer to any particular destination, gave Ishmael quite a lot of time to think. This entire adventure had started eight years ago, shortly after Louis XIV died, when it became clear that life at Versailles would no longer be the same. Seeking fulfillment from other sources, the Frenchman acquired a brand new ship, the Presence, and sailed it to the New World to experience life on the frontier.

The times he had on the voyage over as well as the first year in the Americas were nothing short of amazing. Many of the Frenchman's greatest memories were formed on that boat. From experiencing sunrise in the Crow's Nest the morning after a bad storm, from feeling the spray of the sea on him after the ship was rocked by a wave, to sailing out into the unknown on *his* ship with the possibilities stretched out on the horizon before him, the Frenchman felt that he was truly making the most of all that life had to offer.

And then, it ended. He made port in some town he couldn't quite remember now, possibly Nassau itself, and went down to one of the local taverns. He got caught up in a game of chance, got drunker than he was expecting, and lost a wager he wasn't willing to part with: the Presence itself. Just like that, the good times were over. Keeping those good memories in mind were what sustained him for the next year, as he formulated a plan to get his beloved ship back. In 1717, he snuck aboard in the aftermath of the ship's sack of Charleston and made a play for the Captaincy. He failed, but he would make two important connections during that voyage. The first was the man who would eventually become the Captain of the Maven, a competing pirate ship whose crew was always up for sticking it to their more famous brethren. The second was the love of his life.

The Frenchman and his consort spent the next three years in bliss, married in all but name, as they taught each other the ways of the world. These were the happiest years of his life, with memories that even now worked to take his current pains away, but something was missing. It wasn't quite perfect yet. The two of them had a built a life for themselves, but they both agreed that the only way to make it better is if they sailed the world together on the Presence. Never settling for "great" when "perfect" was in sight, the Frenchman once again worked to smuggle himself on board, this time with his consort.

In 1720 he did so in the confusion of the attack on the Spanish Treasure Fleet. They were both capable fighters and cunning planners, ready to take on all comers... but on the second night, his consort died. It wasn't an ultimate sacrifice for the cause, it wasn't a final act of defiance before the inevitable, it was just a random killing from the ship's First Mate at the time. He didn't even get to say goodbye. The Frenchman got his revenge, but emotionally spent, his heart wasn't in the takeover. His better half had departed him, and though he tried to reclaim the ship, he fell short once again, ultimately paraded around by the current Captain as his ultimate act of triumph.

Grief led to anger. Anger led to a plan. He tracked down his old friend, the Captain of the Maven, and sought out his help. He hired out two of the Maven's best crewmen and waited for the time to be right. He had always wanted his ship back, but this time it was personal.

But for a third and final time, things didn't go to plan. He had survived for far longer than he had any right to, continuing to display a trait he had shown on the previous two occasions he had tried to reclaim the ship, but eventually even he had to succumb to the inevitable. And thus the events on the seventh day happened, leading to his current situation.

Still... it had been a good life. It hadn't been as long as he had liked, but it had definitely been full. Better this than some of his peers in the Old World, getting fat off the taxes of their subjects and endlessly scheming against each other. He had learned, he had loved, and he had lived.

And now he could feel the darkness about to overtake him. Sparing one last glance down at the chunk of wood that was holding him up, he murmured the softest of gasps. Staring back at him was something that had not caught his eye until now: A minor piece of vandalism, carved into the wood: a love declaration between the Frenchman and his consort, dated 1720, the first night they were aboard the Presence together in his second attempt to retake the ship, the last night before she died. How fitting.

Clinging to the two great loves of his life, the Frenchman passed into the great beyond.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The victorious crewmen:
Visorslash - 336 (first place)
Double A - 248
dcmort93 - 229
Zack - 199
Golden1Knight - 186
Myrddraal - 175
Montmorency - 174
Xiahou - 152
Ituralde - 149
Andres - 142
Gaius Scribonius Curio - 137
johnhughthom - 102
seireikhaan - 101
landlubber - 98
Lissa - 83
Ice - 62
TFT - 30
Kagemusha - 0

Would have scored higher, if not for those meddling thieves:
BSmith - 163

Abandoned ship, for better or for worse:
El Barto - 218
Askthepizzaguy - 198
Choxorn - 160
Ironside - 96

Would have made it off alive, if not for those meddling clothes:
autolycus - 337
Csargo - 134

Died in the line of duty:
spaceman98 - 93

Absent from next year's AGM of shareholders:
TheFlax - 79

Adieu, mon amour:
Ishmael - 76

[Montmorency]

Visorslash - 336 (first place)

Crazed Rabbit - 336 (first place)

Good on ya', Visor.

[Montmorency]

A funny thing I have to mention:

When BSmith first approached me at the end of D8, I decided to have him kill Csargo, which would have allowed Auto to get away with a Plan B success.

However, I then realized that if Andres were the Frenchman that he would have converted Csargo; this realization coupled with the earlier discussion of Csargo vs. Auto's scumminess led me to change BSmith's order to killing Auto a few hours later.

It's the Captain's prerogative to deal out death and justice.

[Zack]

Zack - 199
Askthepizzaguy - 198

Who's one gold ahead now?!

[BSmith]

A funny thing I have to mention:

When BSmith first approached me at the end of D8, I decided to have him kill Csargo, which would have allowed Auto to get away with a Plan B success.

However, I then realized that if Andres were the Frenchman that he would have converted Csargo; this realization coupled with the earlier discussion of Csargo vs. Auto's scumminess led me to change BSmith's order to killing Auto a few hours later.

It's the Captain's prerogative to deal out death and justice.

I had pretty much decided to kill auto regardless. His situation was the most suspicious to me and I had one less night to kill him than I did Csargo.

[El Barto]

Abandoned ship, for better or for worse:
El Barto - 218

Scored more'n anywan wha didna have an officer's salary. Awricht!

But wha' do we count as? This be no' an ordinary game, Hankie me mate.

[Visor]

Thanks for the game GH, I had a ton of fun (besides that one day). Its nice to get redemption from the last game and that horrible failure.

Excellent writeups, excllent game, a pleasure. My apologies to you and the rest of the game for getting things heated at stages - that was definitely something I should've worked to avoid.

[Zack]

Scored more'n anywan wha didna have an officer's salary. Awricht!

But wha' do we count as? This be no' an ordinary game, Hankie me mate.

And I would have scored higher than you if you didn't receive those wills. I have never received any gold from a will in one of these games.

[Zack]

Thanks for the game GH, I had a ton of fun (besides that one day). Its nice to get redemption from the last game and that horrible failure.

Excellent writeups, excllent game, a pleasure. My apologies to you and the rest of the game for getting things heated at stages - that was definitely something I should've worked to avoid.

My advice is stop playing on 2+2. Sometimes you can see the influence seeping into your posts.

[GeneralHankerchief]

But wha' do we count as? This be no' an ordinary game, Hankie me mate.

BSmith and above got a victory (BSmith's was minor), the four people who abandoned ship scored a draw, and everyone from autolycus below took a loss.

Roles are coming tomorrow (US time), my traditional essay probably a day or two after that.

[landlubber]

Phenomenal game, tons of fun to play in (and spectate after my death). Thanks to everyone for making such an engaging game possible.

[Visor]

2000 posts is a lot. Been a long time since a game on either the Org or CFC got there, NSP 1 got close(actually got above 2000) I think, and that was also another classic.