|Size||14 Players (Medium)|
|Start Date||July 21, 2009|
|First to Die||JarZe|
|Last Remaining||Dawg, rossbeemer|
It began on July 21, 2009 and ended in a Baddies win in N5 (August 4th, 2009).
Game Mechanics Edit
Challenge Credits in Camelot: The jackpot is 10 credits. Secret WC's are worth varying amount of credits which are specified in the role PM's. If a player achieves his/her secret WC, he/she forfeits their share of the Jackpot, which does not get redistributed. I.e. if the Usurpers win, each member who does not achieve their secret WC will receive 2.5 credits, if King Arthur's Court does, each member gets 1. The players who achieve their secret WC's get the amount specified in the description.
Some Secret Win Conditions are synergistic with other roles' Secret WC's (i.e. they are satisfied at the same time). Some Secret Win Conditions that are antagonistic and/or competitive with other roles' Secret WC's (i.e. only one can be satisfied, if one wins, the others fail). There will be clues to the Secret WC's in the storyline. There also may be clues to the Secret WC's of other roles in the Secret WC description of a role. All players must be alive at the time their secret WC is filled in order to fulfill it. A few secret WC descriptions also give the role an extra ID or two, or the ability to make guesses. Other than that, the secret WC's don't give extra abilities. Secret WC's will only be revealed if a player succeeds in achieving it, and then they will leave the game.
- Morgause: Half-sister of Arthur, mother of Mordrid, Agravaine, and Gawain. Each Night, chooses a player to seduce. If that player is a male role (except Bors), he will not be able to act for the Night, or, if she can correctly identify the role of the player, she will make him act the way she chooses. May not seduce the same player two Nights in a row (Does not count unless successful).
- Mordrid: The prodigal son of doom. May take on the abilities of all deceased (or gone) Usurpers.
- Agravaine: A malicious and villainous character, but a capable fighter. Is the one to carry out attacks until he dies (or leaves), and then Mordred carries out the attacks. If both of them die, then the attacks are carried out by a NPC and are no longer blockable. When Agravaine carries out the attacks, he also tortures the victim into confessing their identity to him before they die.
- Morgan Le Fay: A powerful enchantress, she may cast an enchantment on a player each Night. Each Day, if enchanted players vote for her, she may choose to effect the enchantment and cause their votes to be redirected to the person she is voting for. Is blocked if she is blocked the Night before.
King Arthur's Court:
- Merlin: Seeks the Once and Future King, Arthur. Each Night, chooses a player to lead to the Stone and has them attempt to draw the Sword from it, which will distract the player from acting on that Night (may not successfully act an a Player more than once). Once Arthur has drawn the Sword, he and Merlin gain BTSC, which will be announced in the Night Post. If Merlin dies before selecting Arthur, Arthur automatically receives the Sword in the Stone. *Merlin's choice will not be announced publicly but will be informed privately after the Night Post. In case of multiple simultaneous blocks on a player, Merlin's Sword trial takes precedence.
- Arthur: Cannot be killed before receiving the Sword in the Stone. Has no action until he draws the Sword from the Stone, after which he may use the Sword to protect a player each Night (can not protect the same player two Nights in a row). Starting from the Night after he draws the Sword, he may choose to throw the Sword into the Lake. Two Night/Day cycles after he has thrown the Sword into the Lake, the Lady of the Lake will emerge and bestow upon him Excalibur, which he may use each Night to either protect or kill a player and to prevent a player from acting.
- Guinevere: A woman surrounded by light and beauty. A Madonna, a white fairy. Each Night may choose a player to save from the enchantment of Morgan Le Fay. If that player was previously enchanted or is enchanted that same Night, she removes the enchantment. Does not prevent future enchantment.
- Elaine of Carbonek: Daughter of the Fisher King. Creates potions to deliver to players, which have a delayed effect, the exact timin depending on the strength. A stronger potion will have effect sooner, while a weaker potions will not have an effect until a later Night. May slip into the drink of a target each Night either a Potion of Protection (protects a player from harm) or a Potion of Slumber (puts the player to sleep so that they cannot act). Must specify the strength of the Potion, from 1-3 Night delay. Target of Potioning will be shown in Night Post, but strength and type of Potion will not. May not deliver Potions to the same player 2 Nights in a row. Cannot be killed on Night 1.
The Knights of the Round Table:
- Lancelot: The most formidable warrior of the Knights of the Round Table. Each Night he may choose a target to kill with his Sacred Sword Arondight. However, if he kills another Knight of the Round Table, his sword becomes a Cursed Sword and will kill a random living player whenever he uses it. (Is not informed if/when his sword becomes a Cursed Sword.)
- Gawain: Brother to Mordrid and Agravaine, who disdains their dastardly deeds and is loyal to his King. Each Night he may choose a player to protect from harm. May not protect the same player two Nights in a row. Target will be notified after the Night Post.
- Galahad: Son of Lancelot, endowed with amazing luck. Can be killed at Night only on odd Nights and can be lynched only on even Days.
- Bedivere: A wise and experienced knight. Each Night he may choose to learn the vote of a role the previous Day.
- Bors: A virtuous knight with good judgment. Each Night may choose a player to protect from the seduction of Morgause. May not protect same target two Nights in a row.
- Percival: After his father's death, was raised in the forest by his mother until he was struck by the heroic bearing of passing knights. Each Night, may spy on a player and learn three random letters of their name. May choose to spy a player more than once, and each time will learn three additional letters.
Morgause: (Secret WC: Longs to have her family reunited with her estranged son, Gawain. Wins if he uses his protect 3 times total on her, Mordrid, and/or Agravaine. 5 credits.)
Mordrid: (Secret WC: Wants to kill Arthur. Sorry, this one is pretty obvious ;P. Must carry out a successful attack on Arthur resulting in Arthur's death. 5 credits.)
Agravaine: (Secret WC: Wants to see Guinevere executed. Knows ID of Guinevere. Wins if she is lynched. 4 credits.)
Morgan Le Fay: (Secret WC: Secretly desires to reconcile with her half-brother Arthur. Wins if she redirects the vote to save Arthur when Arthur has the most apparent votes in the final roster. 10 credits.)
Merlin: (Secret WC: Desires to resign to a peaceful life in Avalon with his true love, the Lady of the Lake. Finds Arthur and sacrifices him to the Old Gods in order to defy fate and open the gates of Avalon. Arthur must die b/w the time he receives the sword in the stone and the time he receives Excalibur. 5 credits.)
Arthur: (Secret WC: Kill Mordred. Yeah, this one is pretty obvious ;P. Must carry out a successful attack on Mordred resulting in Mordred's death. 5 credits.)
Guinevere: (Secret WC: Desires to be seen as the prima donna to the Knights of the Round Table. Must save 2 Knights of the Round Table from Morgan Le Fay. 4 credits.)
Elaine of Carbonek: (Secret WC: Desires to have Lancelot sleep with her. Must deliver a Potion of Sleep to Lancelot and then visit him again on the Night the Potion has effect. 6 credits.)
The Knights of the Round Table:
Lancelot: (Secret WC: Falls in love with Guinevere and desires to have secret rendezvous with her. May guess her target each Night. Wins if he guesses 3 correct targets. 4 credits.)
Gawain: (Secret WC: Is contemptuous of Lancelot and wishes to see Arthur battle him. Knows ID of Arthur. Discovers ID of Lancelot after Merlin gives Arthur the sword. Wins if Arthur to attacks Lancelot or Lancelot attacks Arthur. 4 credits.)
Galahad: (Secret WC: Is on a quest to obtain the Holy Grail before Bors and Percival. The Grail is held by the Fisher King's daughter, Elaine, unbeknownst to her. She uses it each Night to mix her potions. The first time she delivers a potion to him, he memorizes her route. The second time, he will slip out and go steal the Holy Grail. To obtain the Holy Grail, must get Elaine to deliver potions to him two times before Bors and Percival. 4 credits.)
Bedivere: (Secret WC: Desires to return Excalibur to the Lady in the Lake. Knows the ID of Arthur. Wins if Arthur is lynched after receiving Excalibur. 7 credits.)
Bors: (Secret WC: Is on a quest to obtain the Holy Grail before Galahad and Percival. The Grail is held by the Fisher King's daughter, Elaine, unbeknownst to her. She uses it each Night to mix her potions. The first time she delivers a potion to him, he memorizes her route. The second time, he will slip out and go steal the Holy Grail. To obtain the Holy Grail, must get Elaine to deliver potions to him two times before Galahad and Percival. 4 credits.)
Percival: (Secret WC: Is on a quest to obtain the Holy Grail before Galahad and Bors. The Grail is held by the Fisher King's daughter, Elaine, unbeknownst to her. She uses it each Night to mix her potions. The first time she delivers a potion to him, he memorizes her route. The second time, he will slip out and go steal the Holy Grail. To obtain the Holy Grail, must get Elaine to deliver potions to him two times before Galahad and Bors. 4 credits.)
Host's Summary Edit
Game Idea and Expectations Edit
Congratulations Usurpers and Mordred! Good game to the rest of you! It was very interesting to watch. Basically the Usurpers won b/c they worked as a team and the lords and ladies of King Arthur's Court were more concerned about their own secret WC's ;P. Speaking of which:
KAC had 3 potential saving roles as well as the ability to counter both Morgause (Bors) and Morgan (Guinevere). However, if Elaine chooses to go for her secret WC, she's blocking people she thinks are innocents as opposed to protecting them or blocking baddies. And the members of KAC were outing themselves like crazy, not considering how easy that made it for the baddies not only to use the RID manipulate but also to strategize, such as killing off Bors so that he couldn't protect Arthur, the innocent heavy hitter, from Morgause.
Also, Morgan has the most difficult WC, but she's also the hardest to get rid of normally, especially if all the killing roles are dead...and the more it gets down to a close vote b/w the Usurpers and KAC, then the better chance she has of achieving her WC. Actually, if ross could have prevented Surge/Mordred from killing Arthur/ST, then he would have had a pretty good chance, since the Usurpers would have wanted to get rid of Arthur before the Night since Morgause can't target the same person twice.
Winning Faction Edit
- Dawg - Morgause
- Surge - Mordred achieved secret wincon N4
- Merkal - Agravaine
- rossbeemer - Morgan Le Fay
Day and Night Posts Edit
The milky mists rolled along the shores of Avalon. The gentle breeze rustled the ferns along the waters. Upon the dewy grass, an old man lay, staring serenely out into the distance. His hallowed skin now hung loosely on top of his bones, the structure of which betrayed hints of a handsomeness that had resided there in his youth, which had been filled with a lust for adventure and knowledge. Now his entire form was swathed in a cloak of fatigue, and all he longed for was to maintain this state of peace.
Behind him, a woman stepped forward gingerly. The wind fluttered through her gossamer white robe. "Merlin," she spoke in a low, solemn voice. "It is time. You must leave now to fulfill your destiny. Fate awaits."
Merlin closed his eyes and sighed.
The streets of Camelot were silent as the last rays of the setting sun retreated behind the Bastille of the horizon. The only sound that arose from the street was the scuttling of little feet as a mouse dashed across the pavement. Moments later, a black cat, swiftly and noiselessly went chasing after it. Another few moments later, the heavy steps of the paws of a large dog rumbled behind.
Inside the house, white steam arose from the chalice as Elaine poured the ingredients for her potion into it. As she tenderly stirred the elixir, the glint of light off the chalice caused her mind to wander and reminisce upon when her father had bestowed the special gift on her. He had put his hefty, strong arm around her shoulders and looked deep into her eyes. "My dear child," he had spoken with a tone of urgency in his voice. "You are a descendant of our ancestry of Guardians, the last of our line. You must keep our special treasure safe and seek the continuance of our blood through seeking the strongest Knight. I am old and weak now. The future is in your hands."
As she had hugged his elderly form tightly and assured him she would her best, she had felt his muscles tighten between her arms. "Be wary, my child," he had murmured coarsely, "There are those who seek to take what you seek to protect."
In the Royal Hall at Camelot Castle, polychromatic banners draped down from the high stone arches. The pristine architecture was beautiful but cold. Along the sides of the corridor, the Knights stood erect, staring in awe, as the graceful figure of the lady Guinevere passed, dressed in a magnificent gold and ivory gown. She donned a beneficent smile as she bathed in their admiration. One pair of eyes in particular was fixed upon her with unerring infatuation. However, there was also one lone pair of eyes that did not gaze upon her with love, but instead, glared at her in contempt from the shadows. If looks could kill...
Inside the hideaway of the Usurpers, a lone female form stood in the center of a room, staring up at a portrait that hung upon the wall. The flickering light of a solitary candle intermittently illuminated the tears that swam down her pale cheeks. Suddenly, a voice from behind her startled the woman.
"Sister, what are you doing here so late?" asked Morgan Le Fay.
Morgause hastily rubbed her sleeve along her cheek to dab away the evidence of her sorrows. "Nothing, dear sister," she replied, turning to greet Morgan with a expertly forged smile. "It was stuffy in my room, and I just wanted to step out for a breath of air."
After Morgause's shadow disappeared around the corner, Morgan batted her long spider lashes up at the painting on the wall. It was a picture of a woman and her three sons, happily entwined in each other's arms. Morgan shrugged and walked on.
A deep sadness sated the dark eyes of the Lady as she watched Merlin's boat disappear into the mists. The fierce wind picked up her ebony tresses and twirled and snapped them around her. The winds of fate are blowing, she thought. The strong warm air of the True King was destined to come to the front of Camelot, carrying hope and prosperity. However, tragic gails of forbidden love would soon reak havoc upon the tenuous peace. And finally, there was an unstoppable typhoon of hatred and ambition of the son that threatened to tear Camelot to shreds. Fate had set the storm in motion. Where the pieces would land was now up to the players.
Sounds of music and gaiety could be heard emanating from the local Sports Tavern. Inside, the colorful crests of popular knights littered the walls. On the big enchanted mirror, HD images of the recent jousting tournament flickered. A loud roar rose and diffused through the room as the two knights clashed and the one in green went down.
"Wench, more wine!" cried JarZe, lifting up his goblet and wiggling it pronouncedly.
A fair hand reached out and tenderly took his goblet and his hand. "Here, let me," a mellifluous voice murmured in his ear. The attractive voice belonged to an equally attractive woman with a head covered with straw blond curls and alert hazel eyes. Her pink lips curved up into an appealing smile as she let the amber liquid flow from the decanter she carried into JarZe's goblet.
JarZe smiled drunkenly at the woman as she finished pouring and carefully returned the goblet to JarZe's grasp. "You...I don't believe I've seen you in here before. And I'm pretty sure I know all the girls who work here..." his words were interrupted by a hiccup, and then he continued. "Say, what's your name?"
JarZe thrust his goblet into the air, sloshing a little of the elixir onto the table in front of him. "To Elaine!" he bellowed happily before preceding to bring the goblet to his lips and consuming the entirety of its contents in a giant swig. After swallowing and wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he put down the goblet and turned to her, asking "So what say you we go somewhere, just the two of us..."
But she was gone.
Outside, a black cat scurried out of a dark alley. Seconds later, a man wearing a canvas cloak emerged from the same alley. The man's hooded head turned around, surveying the scene. No sign of her. Darn, he thought. Well, this isn't working, I guess the only way to find her is to make her come to me...
Back inside, another hooded figure, this time in a creamy white cloth, was watching a young man intently.
"Boy!" called JarZe, now even more drunk, as he noticed the spilled liquid on the table in front of him. "Come clean this up right now!"
The busboy's ears perked up and he hurried over to the customer. "Yes, sir!" he answered obediently, picking up the dishtowel attached to his apron and quickly wiping down the table. His motions were strong and capable, and when he finished he stood back and asked politely, "Is there anything else I can do for you?"
The white-hooded figure stroked his long beard as he observed the scene. There seemed to be an uncanny maturity in the voice of that young man, and there was an unexpected nobility in the way the boy carried himself. As he watched the boy bow and hasten towards the kitchen (and undoubtedly his next chore), the old man stood up and adeptly interjected himself into the boy's path.
The sudden intrusion surprised the boy, but with his naturally keen sense of movement, he managed to retain his balance. "Excuse me, sir," he politely addressed the old man. "May I do something for you?"
Merlin leaned his head close to the boys, and captured the boy's gaze in the stare of his dark eyes in which, if one looked deeply, one could witness the silver swirl of the multitude of mystical wisdom that resided there. "Yes, boy," he answered in a low tone. "As a matter of fact, there is something that only you can do..."
The force of the push sent JarZe stumbling down the steps and onto the pavement. After he (mostly) regained his balance, he turned and pleaded "come on, just one more drink..." But the stony face of the bouncer proved unsympathetic.
Just then, a carriage pulled up along the street in front of the tavern, and an attractive couple stepped out. JarZe's eyes were captivated by the beauty of the woman, who, albeit someone who had had lived many years in this world, or perhaps, it was exactly because she had had so much worldly experience, exuded an air of sensuality like no other woman he had ever seen.
As the couple strolled past JarZe, the woman fleetingly batted her dark spider lashes at him before turning to her companion and squeezing his arm tightly. "JaaayyyeeeSSSS..." she cooed, "be a dear and get us a private table, would you?"
JS turned to her with a dreamy look in his eyes, like his mind wasn't really there. "Anything you say, Morgause, my love..."
After staggering along the alley for who knows how long (he sure didn't, at least), JarZe froze when he heard a sinister voice call out to him: "Where do you think you're going? I've been looking all Night for you!"
The voice belonged to a sinewy young man dressed in a blood red tunic and black leggings with long dark brown hair that was tied behind him. The youth held a sword in his left hand, which he now pointed at his prey.
"Just go away," JarZe moaned piteously, cupping his hands to his throbbing head.
Agravaine sneered. "Sorry, but when my blade is out for blood, it won't be hindered from satisfying its thirst. Actually, I was hoping for more of a fight, but...whatever." With that, he lunged at JarZe, sword raised.
To his utter amazement and chagrin, JarZe's form seemed to disappear from his sight just as his blade was about to make contact with it. His jaw dropped open and he barely managed to recuperate his bearings in time to parry the blow that seemed to come at his right side from out of nowhere. He jumped back, twirled around, and paused, panting.
JarZe, who now stood erect, his wits re-lit by the fire of battle, held his own gleaming sword with unwavering hands. "Didn't mean to surprise you, but I didn't want to disappoint you," he chided with a glint in his eye.
A smile crossed Agravaine's lips. "Well now, this is looking like it'll be quite entertaining after all..."
The alley was filled with the echoes of clanging metal on metal for several hours, as the sky to the east began to lighten and turn shades of purple and pink. At last, the sounds stopped.
The two fighters stood at opposite ends of the alley, both panting voraciously for lost breath. As they raised their heads and stared into each other eyes, they both knew that they both only had strength for one last attack. It was time to finish it.
Agravaine lifted his sword in salute to his formidable foe and retracted it behind his head in his final stance. JarZe nodded his head in acknowledgement for his worthy opponent and held his sword straight in front of him. Then both let out fierce war cries and rushed at each other at top speed. The exchange of blows was too fast for the human eye could to detect. The pair ended up on opposite sides of the alley from where they had started, frozen for a moment...
Blood trickled down Agravaine's leg as he took a step forward. "You were a truly skillful adversary," he stammered.
A smile spread out accross JarZe's lips. "Not skillful enough, apparently..." he managed to choke out before a torrent of blood came spewing out of his lips and his body tumbled forward onto the ground. The image of a beautiful woman flashed in his mind before his consciousness dissipated...forever.
The severity of the winds worsened as the travelers approached the summit of the cliff. Streaks of lightning electrified the dark clouds above them. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning shot down and made contact with a metal object which stuck out from a stone towards the sky, illuminating it for the two men to see. It was a sword.
The boy pulled back with apprehension. The old man responded by granting him a firm but encouraging push. The boy took one step towards the sword. The sky was lit by more eager strikes of lightning and the wind jostled his hair along with the grass and bushes hungrily. The boy looked back at his mentor, who calmly nodded. The boy took another step...and another...and another, putting up his hands to shield himself from the gales. When he had finally reached the glittering sword, which still crackled with remnants of electricity from the lightning, the boy drew in a deep breath. Then he purposedly wrapped his trembling hands around the hilt of the sword...and pulled with all his might.
The Sword slid out with ease and the momentum of the pull propelled the the tip of it up above the boys head and into the sky. As if on cue *cough*, the greatest flash of lightning yet ignited the entire sky, spreading the heavenly message to the ends of Camelot: The True King had been found.
The lords and ladies of King Arthur's Court gathered in sullen mourning of their lost friend, their bowed heads covered in shear shawls and woolen cloaks. (Secretly, however, underneath these accouterments, they were wearing their best party clothes in preparation for the celebration of the crowning of the True King, which was scheduled for later that Night.)
Their indignation at the violent events had to be ameliorated, they cried in unison. Someone had to be held responsible! (Actually, they probably just wanted to clear their conscious of the matter by placing the blame somewhere else so that they could celebrate to their hearts and bellies content.)
But they couldn't make up their minds on who would be made the scapegoat. No one pushed particularly hard because no one wanted to be the next one held responsible if the scapegoat proved to be innocent. At last, two leading factions emerged: one identifying IDNE as the target, the other spatting Sparrowhawk's name. They were at a standstill.
Then someone (whistling.gif) suggested the ingenious idea of soliciting the advice of the legendarily wise sage and powerful mage, Math E. Matica. A summons was sent for him (or maybe it was a her, no one really knew) at once.
When Matica arrived, the double doors of the Hall were blown open with a sparkling gust of fair-e dust, a substance most had believed to be imaginary. Surrounded by innumerable long, seemingly endless strings, a figure in a light blue cloak embellished with golden suns floated in on the operation. The face of the great personage was hidden in the shadows of the over-sized hood.
The great Matica was known for only speaking in numbers, so it was decided that if he chose lower than half, IDNE would idle permanently, and if he chose greater than half, Sparrow would be spared ever having to worry about anything ever again.
"Oh, all-knowing sage and all-powerful mage, what is your verdict?" was the cry from the court.
With all eyes eagerly waiting, Matica raise his(or her) hand. The fair-e dust swirled up into a column in the palm, and continued to spin there for a few moments. Then the column melted down and the dust settled into a number: 0.216254.
"No, please!" IDNE cried as the armored guards carried him towards the gallows. "Please...I only live to serve my king!"
Watching from the shadows as the noose was hung around IDNE's neck, Agravaine snorted contemptuously. "Serves you right," he leered. Then his voice became low and raspy. "That's what you get for betraying the family."
Mordred, who was stooped on the ground a few feet away, "playing with" (aka torturing) a cockroach, tilted his head of dark curls up at the woman who was leaning against the wall. "Mommy," he inquired curiously, as he rammed the tip of the stick in his hand into the belly of the cockroach. "Why is water dripping down from your eyes?"
Morgause shook her head and choked, "It's nothing, dear. Just a silly dream I used to have..."
Their attention was momentarily drawn by the SNAP of Sir IDNE's neck as the stool was kicked out from under him. Morgause shuddered.
Agravaine smiled triumphantly. "Now...if I could only be rid of her..."
The party in honor of the rise of the True King was in full swing. (No one seemed to notice the absence of the guest of honor, after all, who cared, as long as there was wine, right?) Music played from the bardstand and the long tables were adorned with a luxurious feast. Lord and ladies shook and swayed on the dance floor, of course making sure to keep themselves hydrated with plenty of "fluids".
Well, there was one person who noticed the absence of Arthur. She had only agreed to come with her sister in the hopes she might catch a glimpse of him. Even though she had spent so long as a practitioner of dark magic, she had found herself touched by the light of kindness within him. She knew she shouldn't, but...deep inside, she wanted to help him.
But her eyes found no sign of him. Instead, they alighted on Morgause, who was keeping a dazed and confused Fox very busy.
Okay, actually there was one other person who noticed the absence of Arthur: a veteran knight who had been searching for Arthur with a lean and hungry look.
Arthur stood once again at the summit of the cliff, holding his new sword high above his head. "Lady of the Lake!" he proclaimed, his confident voice carried across the churning waters by the exhalted winds. "Take what I have now and in due time, return my sacrifice with interest!"
A monolithic wave crashed onto the rocks below, and Arthur took this as an answer. He switched his hold on the sword to the way he would have held a football (in a couple hundred years) and reared his arm back. With all his might, he threw the sword into the dark waters. Suddenly, a torrent of water came straight up and intercepted the sword in mid-flight. Then the liquid arm retracted, taking the sword with it.
On a nearby shore, Merlin stroked his beard and frowned.
Unreality sat back on the bear-skin couch and burst into a fit of laughter as he watched Celebrity Jousting on his new, sleek, plasma enchanted mirror. Without taking his eyes off the screen (on which Martha Stewart was describing the best way to paint patterns onto a lance as she calmly plunged it into Sean Connery's head), he reached into the crudely-shaped wooden bowl and lifted a handful of magically-warmed popcorn (with home-churned butter), to his lips. Was there something he was expected to be doing? Did someone need him? Whatever, he didn't really care. As long as he had his laughs.
There was a knock at the door. UR, perplexed (who could it be at this hour?), paused the DVR and set the bowl of popcorn aside before walking cautiously to the entrance. He peaked out the peephole. There was no one there. Carefully, he inched open the door. No sign of a person, but...
On top of his doormat, which said "Time is precious. Don't waste mine.", there sat a basket. UR picked it up and looked inside, and then let out a gasp.
He had been in such a rush that he had neglected to shut the door. And the sounds of the metal spoon cracking into the sugary shell of the dessert masked the sounds of footsteps sneaking up behind him. As UR licked the last bit of custard off his spoon, he sighed in satisfaction. "Ah...now I think I could die happy..."
Surge sighed. How Boring this Day turned out to be...
Meanwhile the old man stroked his beard, contemplating his most valuable move. The greatest treasure gleamed in the eyes of the woman. The Knight with the lean and hungry look looked leaner and hungrier...
The cloud of darkness loomed on the horizon. It began to morph...into a form...a beast, what Confucius would call the "Beast of greed" which would consume every last morsel of the light. Which of the valiant warriors remaining would slay this beast? And which would be devoured by it's insatiable appetite?
And so Night fell once again...
As Seahorse stood perched at the pinnacle of Camelot Castle, gazing in wonderment at the reflection of the silver moon on the serene lake, he suddenly felt an ominous chill shoot down his spine. A moment later, a nasty voice addressed him: "So, this is where you've been hiding. I've been looking for you..."
Seahorse spun around, but he had already guessed who his seeker was. And he was correct. The sly looking youth behind him with the slicked back hair in a ponytail leered at him. In the moonlight, the color of his tunic bore an even closer resemblance to the color of blood.
Agravain smoothly slid his sword out of its sheathe. He pivoted the tip up towards his face and twirled it around, apparently fascinated by the way it reflected the moonlight. "You know," he murmured casually, "I really would have preferred to see you publicly humiliated, but...I guess this way works too." He shrugged.
Seahorse turned and prepared to run or scream or something...but the agile attacker was too fast for him. The tip of the sword went into Seahorse's back and penetrated through to the front, turning Seahorse into a seafood kabob. When Seahorse had stopped squirming, Agravaine pulled the sword out and brought the blade up to his lips. He licked the "special sauce". "Mmmm..."
The bartender at the local sports tavern nudged the waiter as he was wiping out a goblet with his dish towel. "Hey, dude, look...it's that couple again."
The waiter glanced his head up from counting tips. "Hmm...they must really like the fried mozzarella sticks here..." he mumbled as he watched the attractive older woman reach towards the plate, pausing for longer than neccessary to give her younger companion, JS, the full benefit of her ample bossom, before picking up a stick and bringing it up to her full red lips.
"Man, what a lucky guy..." the bartender muttered enviously. But their revelry was interrupted by the holler of the boss.
The burly, red faced manager of the tavern glared at his employees. "What do you think you're doing, slacking off like that? Ever since that busboy quit (didn't he become king or something?), we've been shorthanded...geez, what an inconsiderate guy, just up and leaving us like that..."
Arthur, in the middle of praying in the chapel of Camelot Castle, abruptly sneezed. Hmm...there must be a chill, he thought briefly before returning to his silent beseeching of his benefactor.
A ravenous pair of eyes stood staring at his hunched form from the shadowy doorway. Just a matter of time before it becomes mine...
But the watcher was startled by Merlin, who had soundlessly crept up behind him. "Why, Sir Bedivere, what are you doing here at such a late hour?" The wise old man inquired pointedly.
"Oh, um..." the veteran knight's eyes darted around as he sought in his mind for a plausible answer. "I was just...coming to say a prayer for the souls of the dead and to ask protection for the hearts and bodies of the innocent from the forces of darkness."
Merlin's eyes narrowed, and he stroked his beard slowly without replying.
Bedivere laughed nervously. He feigned a yawn. "Oh, well, I'm tired after a long day...I'd better be heading to bed. Looks like there's going to be some excitement in the Days and Nights ahead..." He beat a hasty retreat from the acute glare of the wizard's wizened eyes.
Shaking his head, Merlin turned his gaze upon the young man praying in the chapel. A ray of moonlight shone down from the aperture in the roof and illuminated the boy's ingenuous face. His white robes seemed to glow, and the play of the light created a halo around his golden hair.
The weary old wizard sighed deeply. Could his protect this boy's light? Or would it be extinguished by the darkness in the hearts of the Usurpers, the darkness in the hearts of the those who called themselves his friends, or...*shudder*...the darkness in his own heart?
Merkal laughed maniacally as they dragged him to the gallows. "You stupid innocents!" he scoffed. "Even if you kill me, you're still all doomed!!!"
No one paid any heed. The tension in the rope broke his neck with a satisfying crack.
The reflection of the sun setting into the lake shimmered with a golden glow. Suddenly, the placidity of the surface was broken by a ripple, followed by another, then another. An object emerged from the shining waters, emanating with a powerful light. It was the promised sword: Excalibur.
(Momento style, i.e. done chronologically reversed, except the final section)
Under the glory of the full moon, Fox was peaking through some bushes in the Camelot Castle rose garden, when she was startled by the sound of a twig cracking. She whirled around, her ears perked up in alert. A figure emerged out of the foliage. Fox's shoulder's relaxed. "Oh, it's you...your majesty." She sounded relieved. Then her brows furrowed in confusion. "What are you doing here at this hour?"
The shade of the trees hid Arthur's eyes from Fox's view. "JS has been found murdered. I need you to take up his guard duty for him."
"That's terrible!" Fox exclaimed. She shook her head, then gave her king a brave smile. "Of course I'll take on his duty."
In the watchtower of Camelot Castle, JS, who was suppose to be on vigil, didn't bother to stifle his yawn. But why should he? The grounds were quiet, there was no sign of the enemy anywhere.
Footsteps resounded up the spiral staircase. JS raised his head. When he saw who it was, he lowered his head again and bowed. "Your majesty, how can I help you?" There was a hint of something underneath his officious tone...a note of resentment?
Arthur silently stepped over to where JS was bowed. The torch light cast an eerie glow on his glassy eyes. "You can help me..." he replied, his voice monotone, emotionless, "...by dying."
The legendary blade of Excalibur was plunged into JS's gut.
Star Tiger sat alone at the bar of the sports tavern, a line of empty shot glasses neatly arranged in front of her. After the events of the Day, she had been left feeling confused, betrayed, and completely unsure about who she could trust. Afraid of her so-called "allies" at Camelot Castle, she had snuck out secretly and wandered the streets listlessly, somehow ending here. Perhaps it was because this was where it all started, where the mysterious and mystical mage Merlin had plucked up an unidentifiable busboy and turned him into a king. But now, it appeared that the one the poor busboy had considered his mentor had had his own agenda, which involved the boy's demise. ST sighed and downed another shot. When she put the glass back on the table with her shaky hand, the tumbler tipped over.
A hand reached over her shoulder and picked up the glass. "Here, let me help," said a seductive voice.
ST looked up. Even though her vision was fairly hazy at this point, she recognized the visitor. "You..."
Morgause smiled suggestively. "So you remember me after all." She ran a smooth finger along the rim of the tumbler.
Shame washed over ST. "How could I forget...I heard that our last meeting proved rather...fruitful, for you at least..."
Tucking a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear, Morgause commented, "Well, he has been eager to meet you."
The tired king took a deep breath. "Sure, why not? I guess it's time I confronted my past sins."
His half-sister slid over along the bar towards him. She cupped a warm hand behind his head and brought his face up to look into her eyes. "As you wish...but there are a few things I need you to do for me first..."
While Arthur hobbled along the cobblestone street, dragging the bloodied blade of Excalibur on the ground behind him, a raven flew over his head and landed on a nearby rooftop. It spread its magnificent black wings, on which the moonlight cast a bluish shine, and raised his head and let out a confident KAW, which resounded throughout the Night.
As if called by the creepy creature, a shadow slid out of the darkness. Attached to it, was a boy with skin of a pallid palor, dangling ebony hair, unnaturally blue eyes, and blood red lips. His back was hunched in an awkward stature, and his head tilted to one side. For a seemingly endless moment, he just stared at Arthur with his piercing blue eyes frighteningly wide. Then he opened his red lips and whispered a single word: "Father."
Arthur blinked, and his eyes began to clear. He looked upon the morbid being with a look of sorrow and pity. "I'm sorry...for everything you must have had to suffer through...I can't imagine how you must feel...your very existence is a sin..."
Mordred bound over to his father and threw his arms around him. "It's okay..." he answered cheerly in his peculiar voice, which sounded like an adult's vocal chords, but carried a child-like tone. He hugged his father tightly. "I've waited so long to meet you...now I'm happy..."
The king put a hand tenderly on his son's head. "My poor boy..."
But his voice trailed off, and a moment later blood began to trickle down from the corner of his mouth. Arthur looked down in disbelief at the child in his arms before pulling back and stumbling a few steps. Mordred stared back with a look of innocent curiousity. Then with one final wince that encapsulated all his pain and regret, the great king fell, a dagger protruding out of his back.
"I've waited so long to meet you...now I'm happy..." Mordred chanted, glancing down nonchalantly at the blood that soaked the pale skin of his hands. Then he grinned from ear to ear. "I'm happy I got to kill you."
The raven on the rooftop fanned out its wings to their fullest, and let out another KAW, which sounded simultaneously sad and triumphant. Then it pushed off and flew into the blackest Night.
Spoiler for Mordred Secret Win Condition: (Secret WC: Wants to kill Arthur. Sorry, this one is pretty obvious ;P. Must carry out a successful attack on Arthur resulting in Arthur's death. 5 credits.)
The remaining members of King Arthur's Court, weary and confused, pushed Rossbeemer, kicking and screaming, towards the gallows.
"Wait!" the victim cried frantically, "You're making a huge mistake!"
"Yeah, yeah...that's what they all say..." Sparrow muttered, rolling his eyes. The crowd watched unsympathetically as the noose tightened around Ross's neck, the stool was kicked out from under him, and his body finally stopped fidgeting and fell limp.
Then they collectively blinked, as the dangling form began to shimmer and shift. The enchantment that had been cast over their eyes lifted, and they now saw the truth: the one who had lost the game of Hangman was not Ross, but...Marth?!
The group was silent with shock. Was all hope now lost for the noble lords and ladies, or was there one more secret, tightly held in the nether regions of someone's heart, that could penetrate and disperse the seemingly endless gloom?
Two women perched confidently at the walkway on the wall of Camelot Castle, surveying their new kingdom with satisfaction. The buxom redhead turned to her reserved companion and proposed, "So, how are we going to divide up the rule? Half-half or specific division of power?"
Before the dark-haired Morgan could reply, a voice interrupted, "Not so fast, Morgause." The voice belonged to Merlin, who paused at the top of the stairs to catch his breath before he continued towards the female pair. Behind him followed Sir Percival, wearing a cloak that hid his eyes from view.
"Who's going to stop us? You?" Morgause retorted, releasing a high-pitched giggle.
Merlin straightened his back and pulled himself up to his full height. "Don't underestimate me, Morgause, just because I'm old. I have more wisdom in my little finger than you'll ever have!" In demonstration, he raised him pinky to his lips, closed his eyes, and began a chant to call up the forces of nature to smite his enemy.
Suddenly, the chanting stopped. Merlin's eyes bulged open and his facial muscles froze in astonishment. He looked down incredulously at the sword that pierced his side, and his eyes followed the blade from where it entered his body up to the hand that held it, and his gaze continued scanning up the arm that held the sword and finally reached the face. The hood of the cloak had fallen back, revealing Percival's blank, glassy, emotionless eyes.
Percival drew back the sword, and Merlin's body toppled over the wall and fell into the moat with a sharp splash. Then Percival walked over to Morgause and kneeled down on one knee before her.
Morgause's musical laughter reverberated along the walls of Camelot Castle. She looked down at her new servant. "Well done, sweetie. Thank you for getting rid of that nasty Merlin for me. Now...how should I reward you?" The redhead made a show of scratching her chin. Then she raised her finger into the air. "I know! How about I give you...this?" As she spoke, she reached down into her bag and brought out an item, a golden chalice which shone spendiferously in the moonlight. She twirled the chalice around, allowing the light to catch all the crevices of the artistic embroiderment on the treasure. Then, pursing her lips, she ruminated, "I wonder what's so great about this Holy Grail thing? Why were you, Galahad, and Bors so intent on finding Elaine so that you could get your hands on it? It just seems like an ordinary cup to me..." She shrugged and offered it out to the kneeling knight.
Without looking up, the knight replied. "To serve you is all the reward I need. My heart is yours."
"Oh?" mused Morgause, a glint in her eye. "Well then, how about you carve it out and give it to me?"
Percival raised his sword. "As you wish," was his response as he plunged the sword into his own chest.
Morgan grimaced and looked away as her sister let out another peal of laughter. A movement in the corner of Morgan's eye caught her attention and she turned towards it. Below, a shadowy object slipped out of the dark waters of the moat and moved awkwardly, tortuously, towards the forest. A sad smile set itself on Morgan's mauve lips. "You were a worthy adversary, wizard," the fairy whispered into the wind. "Hence I shall grant you a requiem in death."
Merlin staggered aimlessly along the deserted street of the town. His wrinkled hand pressed to his side did not stem the flow of warm sticky blood from the wound. It was hopeless, this was the end for him. His strength depleted, his body collapsed onto middle of the paved road.
As the man lay there, memories from his long life began to flash through his mind: his adventures and his dreams, his triumphs and his struggles. Then one particular image manifested itself clearly in his mind's eye. It was a woman, dressed in a flowing white robe, her long dark hair floating on the wind. The woman slowly stepped towards him, and upon reaching him, sat down and tenderly lifted his head and set it in her lap. Merlin could feel the warmth of her legs touching his neck, the softness of her hair hanging down on his cheek as she bent her head over him. A bevy of emotions deluged his senses as he remembered moments similar to this that he had experienced in the past. The all too brief periods when they had managed to steal away from the iron grip of destiny and enjoy an ephemeral peace in each other's arms. However, Fate always managed to find them in the end and drag them back to their predetermined paths. Merlin had tried to defeat Fate and free himself and his love from its grasp by keeping its chosen champion, Arthur, from receiving its chosen tool, Excalibur. But he had failed. And now both his future and the future of Camelot spiraled into darkness.
The woman smiled serenely down at him as she gingerly pushed a lock of damp hair away from his eyes. With the last remnants of his strength, Merlin brought a bony hand up and clasp it around her long fingers. He looked up into her dazzling eyes and opened his parched lips to speak her name: "Nimueh...I'm sorry..."
She shook her head softly and squeezed his hand. "It's alright, my love. You did well. Now it's time for you to rest."
A look of peace washed over Merlin's sharp features as he slowly closed his eyes. Yes, rest...
When she had felt the beat of his heart cease, Morgan gently lifted the head of the great wizard from her lap and reverentially set it down on the ground. "I couldn't help my brother," she sighed, "but at least I got to use my powers for something good in the end." She raised her face up to the sky, which was unveiling streaks of purple and pink as banners heralding the awaited arrival of the sun. For the second time that Night, a dark object in her peripheral vision caught her attention. This time it was a raven, perched on a nearby awning. Perhaps it was just Morgan's imagination, but the curious creature seemed to have an expression of sorrow and mourning in its dark eyes. The blue-black bird bowed its head to Morgan, as if thanking her. Then it flapped its sleek wings and took off into the sky.
The raven soared upwards into the freedom of the azure sky. It glided on spread wings away from Camelot and the enlightening events that had occured there. It flew with purpose in the direction of the rising sun that brought along with it the promise of a new day, a new adventure, and a new story.
End of Game Roster Edit
Lady of the Lake: Charmed Chanter (host)
- Fox - Percival - slain by Usurpers N5
- sparrowhawk - Merlin - slain by Usurpers N5
- Dawg - Morgause
- Marth - Galahad - Lynched D4
- Limey - Bors - Lynched D2
- JS - Bedivere - Killed by Arthur N4
- Surge - Mordred - VICTORIOUS! (achieved wincon N4 & left game)
- Merkal - Agravaine - Lynched D3
- JarZe - Lancelot - slain by Usurpers N1
- ST - Arthur - Killed by Mordred N4
- rossbeemer - Morgan Le Fay
- IDNE - Gawain - Lynched D1
- Unreality - Elaine of Carbonek - slain by Usurpers N2
- seahorse - Guinevere - slain by Usurpers N3
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