With Great Sacrifice [Concluded]

[Visor]

Landlubber is mafia? Wow. Tha's gotta suck.

[Montmorency]

I'm pretty sure half the players could be implicated, by that criterion.

[Visor]

Possibly, but in my mind, all the others are somewhat active. Landlubber recently has gone AWOL, as we saw in Yakuza.

[seireikhaan]

Mkay, night's ended, writeup in progress.

[seireikhaan]

Yaropolk was awaiting the sun with anticipation. He sat on the mat in his quarter, tapping a finger against the wall to a rhythm of his own creation. The room was lit only by a single brazier in the corner, which creating a shadow across much of it. The gentle rhythm of his tapping was interrupted by the sound of footsteps. Yaropolk halted for a moment to make sure he was hearing properly. Sure enough, the faint steps in the stone hallway halted directly outside the frame to his room. The curtain was pushed aside by a man with a jaguar skin draped across his shoulders. Each hand gripped an obsidian club. Eyes flared with rage at seeing Yaropolk.

“He has decreed! Die heathen!” The intruder leaped forth with almost unnatural grace, clubs raised to smite his foe. Yaropolk, to his credit, looked merely annoyed. The twin clubs smashed down on his skull at the same time, twisting it to the side with a sickening crack. Yaropolk slumped down. The attacker grinned at its victory. Then, beyond all reason, Yaropolk sighed. His neck twisted and creaked back into its natural shape. He looked at the attacker with pure annoyance. With a crack, Yaropolk disappeared, replaced by a hunched, skull-faced figure.

“How irritating. Oh well… I will see you later, fool.” With another crack, the figure vanished before the intruder’s eyes.


For Seon, the night was young. He was helping himself to a small stash he’d discovered hidden in his quarters. The previous occupant had apparently been forced out before being able to collect the spirits. Not a tragedy, as far as Seon was concerned. Unfortunately, in his inebriated state, as he sang to himself, he did not hear the footsteps outside the curtain. When a short, stout figure pushed it aside to find him, he was altogether too jolly to notice his guest’s spear. He offered the clay goblet to the intruder, who simply shook his head austerely. With a single, quick thrust, the intruder impaled Seon straight through his chest. He withdrew it just as fast. He shook his head one last time as Seon gurgled out his last moments. The intruder wiped the blood dripping from his weapon on the curtain as he left his quarry to die.


A tall, lean figure pushed aside a brightly decorated curtain. He wore nothing fancy, just tan tunic with an undecorated leather cloak. A javelin hung down from his right hand as he looked down at his snoozing target. Csargo, unlike so many others, was actually taking advantage of the downtime. A small grin appeared on the visitor’s face. He hefted the javelin up, and rammed it straight into the middle of Csargo’s exposed back. Csargo jerked up and spun around. He narrowed his gaze at the intruder, then rolled his eyes. He reached behind himself, and yanked out the javelin. “Figures,” he muttered to himself. “I suppose luck was not on my side this time. I’ll show them, though.” He looked down at the javelin. “You’ll need more than this if you’re going to win, boy.” With a flash, Csargo transformed into a great feathered serpent, jaws clenched around the weapon. With seemingly no effort, it splintered the weapon and vanished.




When I arrived the next morning, there was a great stirring amongst those gathered. I approached High Priest Tlacalael. "High Priest.... it seems that everyone is more anxious than previously. Has something happpened?" He turned to me with a stern gaze.

"It seems that someone or someones has decided that we are in error. Two people went missing last night, and Seon was discovered butchered in his quarters. We must continue with our efforts, however. Our sacrifices thus far must not be in vain. Our course is clear; we must still find the purest sacrifice. When the gods at last accept our sacrifice and give us rain, this small, side problem shall solve itself. Now, are you ready to keep today's record?"



Day 3 has begun! You have 36 hours.

Alive:

Bsmith
Chaotix
Daveshack
Edse
Fluffy
GeneralHankerchief
Ishmael
Jarema
Landlubber
Lazy McCrow
Lewwyn
Montmorency
Visorslash
White eyes
Zack

Lynched:

Atheotes (D1)
SalmonSoil (D2)

Attacked:

Seon (N2)
Yaropolk (N2)
Csargo (N2)

[Montmorency]

So there's a twist to it; Pizza anticipated this.

[Jarema]

interesting.
it seems almost as if we had lost one town power role, and that SK (or someone similar) was killed.