|Princess Bride Mafia|
|Size||13 Players (Large)|
|Start Date||November 10, 2008|
|First to Die||Prince_Marth85|
|Last Remaining||Brandonb, Mekal, CherryLane, Yoruichi-san, Star_Tiger|
It began on November 10, 2008 and ended in a Goodies win in D4 (November 18th).
This is old-school mafia – nothing too complicated – however, the roles and the rules of play have been tweaked to fit the movie and my personal liking, so please read them carefully.
- Roles will be randomly assigned Tuesday. As soon as all confirmations are received, the game can start.
- Both days and nights will be approximately 24 hours beginning and ending at 8pm Central Time. Be patient; story posts will be made typically around 10pm Central Time. If night information comes early, or if the lynch vote is a run-away, the host can choose to post early…this will only extend the following day/night period.
- Clues will not be given in the story posts – I’m just not that clever – so there is no use trying to read between the lines. Any suspicious-sounding action in the story is purely unintentional on my part. Timelines may be out-of-order so that the story flows better. All Characters will be referred to by the sex of said character – use of “he” or “she” has nothing to do with the player assigned that role.
- In order for a player to reveal his/her role publicly on the thread (be it the correct role or a bluff), he/she will first be challenged to a duel. They must PM me and I will roll the die to determine their fate. They have a 2/3 chance of being allowed to reveal their role, and a 1/3 chance they will be skewered by my sword in the duel. Hinting and guessing are allowed, but a player cannot confirm a guess by saying their role without first accepting the duel. If this rule is broken then that player will become a vanilla character (losing all of their abilities.) **PG snickers wickedly!**
- Nonsense posts are allowed but discouraged. If this privilege is abused (as determined by the Host :D) the abuser will first be warned and then replaced.
- Be polite to one another and to the Host – no rude language. If you have a complaint about another player, please PM me so that I can handle the situation privately. The game thread is no place for complaints.
- No Behind the scenes contact (BTSC) for anyone except Westley/Buttercup and the Florin Trio.
- Absolutely no spying on other players’ profile page. If a player is accused of spying, an investigation and/or a reprimand will be given by me; followed by replacement. I trust that since you all are experienced and skilled in Mafia, cheating will not be necessary.
Note: In this game, Westley and The Dread Pirate Roberts are two separate people – his black mask distinguishes Roberts in the images.
The Princess’ Court – Win when Vizzini and the Florin Trio are dead.
- Westley – The Epic Hero and Buttercup’s true love. Westley cannot die during the night while Buttercup is alive. If Westley is attacked while Buttercup is alive, there is a 50% chance that his attacker will die by Westley’s sword instead. Has BTSC with Buttercup.
- Buttercup – Can bewitch all men with her surpassing beauty. Each night Buttercup can target any player. When she targets them, she simply bats her eyelashes and they are crazed by love causing the accuracy of their night action to be reduced. The action of Buttercup’s target will have a 1/3 chance of being accurate, a 1/3 chance of targeting someone random (including himself but not Buttercup or Westley) and a 1/3 chance of not working at all. Buttercup’s feminine charm does not work on Valerie. Has BTSC with Westley
- The Dread Pirate Roberts – His name alone strikes fear in the hearts of men as he is notorious for being a ruthless killer. On odd nights, Roberts can kill the target of his choice. If spied upon, there is a 50% chance that Roberts will take to the high seas and be unable to be located.
- Inigo Montoya – The Expert Swordsman and village drunk. Inigo is driven by his obsession to avenge the death of his father who was unjustly slaughtered by a six-fingered man. On even nights, Inigo can kill the target of his choice. Inigo can also choose one night only to go on a drinking binge. If he is targeted while on his binge he will not be able to be found because he is passed out in the thieves’ forest. Once Count Rugen is dead, Inigo loses his thirst for blood and booze and becomes a vanilla character.
- Fezzik – The Giant. Fezzik may look intimidating but he's got a heart of pure gold. If spied upon, Fezzik will don a holocaust cloak and masquerade as the Dread Pirate Roberts (unless his role has already been publicly revealed.) Fezzik cannot die by lynching. If he gains the majority vote and is lynched he will loose consciousness for one night/day period when he will be safe from any action against him. After the next lynching vote, Fezzik will regain consciousness and rejoin the court – with his identity made public of course.
- Clergyman – Each night the Clergyman can say a blessing of protection on the person of his choice. However, because the Clergyman is as old as dirt and is suffering from dementia he has only a 50% chance of blessing the intended person, leaving him with a 50% chance of accidentally blessings a statue of St. Francis. The Clergyman can only choose to bless himself once, but when he does, his blessing is 100% effective.
- Miracle Max – Can bring anyone back to life during the night by giving them a chocolate-coated miracle pill (but not the same person 2 nights in a row.) However, because of his deep hatred for Prince Humperdinck, even if he is accidentally chosen, Miracle Max will refuse to make him a pill. Max can only choose to save himself once.
- Valerie – Valerie is the wife of Miracle Max. Each night Valerie can look into the soul of a person and see the goodness (or faction) in their heart. If Valerie is killed during the night she automatically consumes Max’s miracle pill, even if he had intended it for another player, including himself. She will be revived, but her role will be made public. She can only be saved once – whether she was chosen by Max or not (and irregardless of if Max is still alive.)
- Narrator – The Narrator knows the whole story. He can learn the role of one player each night. If the Narrator is lynched, he will (must) shout out the identity of the player of his choice before he dies.
Vizzini – Rogue Hitman. Each night Vizzini can challenge any player to a battle of wits – to the death – via a drinking game. There is a 2/3 chance that his opponent will consume the drink laced with Iocane powder (one of the deadliest poisons known to man) and die. Vizzini wins when both Westley and Buttercup are dead. If Prince Humperdinck chooses, he can hire Vizzini to replace one of his fallen partners. The offers is so sweet that Vizzini accepts it unconditionally and gains BTSC with the remaining Florin Trio. However, as part of the Trio, Vizzini’s kill accuracy will become distorted. He will then have a 2/3 chance of poisoning his target, and a 1/3 chance of poisoning a random living player (including himself and the other members of the Florin Trio.) Vizzini’s win condition then becomes that of the Florin Trio. Vizzini cannot be killed the first night.
- Note: if Vizzini wins too early on, the game will continue to compete for second place.
The Florin Trio – Wins when all the innocents are dead.
- Prince Humperdinck – Ruler of the Florin trio. The Prince is trying to frame Gilder, the country across the sea, in order to start a war. Each night the Prince makes a kill command – if the kill is successful the Prince will set the murder scene to appear as though the Gildeans committed the crime. Has BTSC with Count Rugen and the Albino. If one of the other Florin Trio members is killed, Humperdinck has the option to hire Vizzini to help him start the war and he will gain BTSC with the remaining members. However, Vizzini’s kill accuracy will become distorted. He will then have a 2/3 chance of poisoning his target, and a 1/3 chance of poisoning a random player (including himself and the other members of the Florin Trio.) The other members of the Trio cannot hire Vizzini if the Prince is killed.
- Count Rugen, the six-fingered man – Master of Torture. Each night Rugen can torture one person by strapping them to “the machine.” In their unbearable agony, that person will squeal their true identity before Rugen let’s them free. Has BTSC with Prince Humperdinck and the Albino. Should the Prince die, Count Rugen will become so enraged that each torture session will then also have at 50% chance of killing his victim.
- Albino – Medical Assistant and Guardian of the Hideout. Each prime night (2,3,5,7) the Albino can use one of his homemade remedies to nurse one of the Florin Trio back to health. He can only choose to heal himself once. If the Albino is spied on there is a 50% chance that he will sneak off to the hideout before he can be found. Has BTSC with Prince Humperdinck and Count Rugen.
Game Idea and ExpectationsEdit
- Slick - Miracle Max
- Itachi-san - Princess Buttercup
- Prince_Marth85 - Inigo Montoya
- Brandonb - The Narrator
- Frozen_in_Fire - The Dread Pirate Roberts
- Mekal - Westley
- CherryLane - Valerie
- Yoruichi-san - Fezzik
- Star_Tiger - The Clergyman
Day and Night PostsEdit
|Intro – Can Death Stop True Love?|
|The air was crisp and smelled of autumn; the Florin countryside was dressed in all of the colors of the changing leaves. Each gentle breeze sent red, gold, and brilliant orange spinning and sailing through the air as if God himself had made a wish upon a fiery dandelion. Some of the misfit leaves would find their way on to the dark waters of the western sea only to be battered time and time again against the rocky shoreline. Others would follow the winds eastward and come to rest in the courtyard of the castle where the King’s groundskeepers would frazzle themselves by raking each singleton as it lit on their perfectly manicured landscape.
Buttercup was a commoner by birth…but nothing about her was common. She was a woman of surpassing beauty whose smile alone could melt the heart of any man. Yet Buttercup was distraught over her appointment as the Princes’ bride-to-be; she was already in love with another man. Westley was a farm-hand, poor and perfect, with eyes like the sea after a storm. Their love was passionate and powerful – as if straight from the pages of a storybook – it could only be described as fantastical…as True Love.
Little did Westley and Buttercup know that they had more than just the obstacle of Buttercup’s royal engagement to overcome, but they would also have to somehow thwart the plans of her fiancé to have her murdered on their wedding night. Prince Humperdinck, along with his confidants, was conspiring to incite a war with Guilder, the country across the sea, the sworn enemy of Florin. He had already begun to set the stage by enlisting a rogue hitman, Vizzini, to frame Guilder by murdering the Princess Bride and her court…unless, that is, the Florin trio beat him to it.
With forcible corruption assembling against them the only question that remains is: can death stop True Love?
|Night 1 - Just when you thought it was safe to reside in Florin...|
Vizzini lurked about in the woods; his small figure could easily hide behind the enormous trees that had spent a century decorating the outskirts of Florin. He crouched behind a giant maple and waited for his victim. Soon he could hear the thu-thumping of a lone horse galloping across the dry leaves that crackled loudly with each beat. As the horse approached, Vizzini jumped from behind the tree and into the wooded path to face Mekal, astride his white stallion. “Whoa there!” Vizzini shouted, “I am but a poor, lost circus performer. Could you tell me where the nearest town is?” But when Mekal turned to point back from where he came, Vizzini snapped the bit of his horse, spooking the creature and sending Mekal crashing to the ground.
Prince Humperdinck paced about in his suite. “Enough of this waiting! I will take action myself!” He slips his sword into it’s sheath and buckles it around his waist. “I will find Frozen and slit him end to end!”
The Narrator reclines in his overstuffed chair, props his feet up on the matching ottoman and flips open the large, tattered leather-bound book. “Ah, the story continues…Let’s see what’s happening this evening in good ol’ Florin. Hmmm…really? Them, huh? It figures.” The Narrator chuckles, snaps the book closed and sets it back on the hand-carved pedestal crafted specifically for the cherished antiquity.
As Mekal regained focus, he saw the squatty man standing over him with a dagger. “I’d most like to kill you,” Vizzini snickered, “but by wit, not by sword. You sir, are no match for my superior intellect!” Mekal began to look peeved; “Fine then, let’s get on with it!” Vizzini led Mekal behind the tree where he had prepared a table set with three goblets. “Two of these three drinks are laced with a deadly poison…choose carefully and drink.” Without hesitation, Mekal grabbed the goblet closest to himself and quaffed it down. Vizzini’s eyes widened, the corners of his mouth turned in an egotistical smirk. It was a stare-down between the two men - both of them waiting for signs of the posion’s lethal effects.
The Prince reached the Tavern where Frozen was known to dine. He slid out of his saddle, tied the reigns to the post outside and headed to the tavern’s door. Just then Frozen pushes the heavy wooden door open and the two men stand face to face. “So, you’ve come to duel have you?” Frozen said calmly, “I am happy to oblige!” Both men pulled their swords and lunged toward one another. The other diners heard the racket and began piling out of the door and encircled the fighting men. Frozen and Humperdinck danced and spun, jabbed and cursed. Steel clashed against steel, each man holding their own, until...
Roberts taped his fingers on his sword. Any minute now he would confront the man who had somehow rubbed him the wrong way. He shifted his weight back and forth, back and forth…and then, there he was. “Marth!” Roberts called out, “I have been waiting around to kill you!”
“Why me?” Prince Marth looked both puzzled and terrified. “We already have one prince in this game, we don’t need any more confusion, now do we?” Roberts spat on the ground and waited for Marth to pull his sword.
On the farm, Westley is working hard shoveling hay in the barn when suddenly a stranger jumps him from behind. The stranger puts a sword to Westley’s neck and mumbles “I could kill you right now if I wanted to, you pathetic farm hand.” Westley, still holding the pitchfork in his hand, swiftly jabs the handle up into the narrow space between the stranger’s sword and his own jugular; then he pushes and the sword goes flying out from the stranger’s grasp and into a pile of hay. “Ha Ha!” Westley shouts victoriously as he turns with his pitchfork above his head, ready to strike. But all he saw was the back of the stranger as he ran out the door and toward the woods.
Brandon stood by a cart in the marketplace, purchasing fresh fish and produce for his next meal. He is startled by a gentle tap on his shoulder. He turns his head only to catch sight of the most rapturous beauty he had ever seen. “I’m Buttercup,” she said, and she flipped her long, wavy flaxen hair over her shoulder. “Well, Buttercup, can you please take a few steps back? You’re invading my personal space!” He turned back around and handed over his coins to the vendor, completely unaffected by her charms. “Hmph!” Buttercup huffed, spun on her heels and stormed away.
The sword slipped easily between Frozen’s ribs, until the tip appeared out his back. He looked down in shock, looked back up at Humperdinck’s gratified eyes, then fell to the ground dead.
Marth swung hard, nearly missing Roberts face. He swung again and Roberts had to duck to miss the blade. Marth went on the offensive and lept toward Roberts causing Roberts to stumble backward, closer to the rocky ledge of a cliff. Marth stepped in, raised his sword, and came down hard toward Roberts. Roberts lifted his sword just in time to make a block. The edge of the blade was centimeters from his face, sweat began to roll from his forehead, soaking his mask.
The Clergyman approached the visitor and laid his wrinkled, palsied hand on their strong, solid shoulder. “May Gawd bwess you, my chi-wld.” He said and then pressed his finger against the visitors forehead to make the sign of the cross. But the visitor’s flesh seemed jagged and cold…and completely unmoving. “Ah, Francis…you’ve got to stop sneaking up on me!” St. Francis remained silent…and plaster. The Clergyman blew out the candles on the altar and headed for home.
Valerie hears a wagon riding close to their cottage. She opens the heavy wooden shutters just a crack to try to catch a glimpse of the driver. She had a difficult time making out their face since the sun was already low on the horizon and the wagon was moving at a good clip, but then she noticed something. “A dead giveaway!” she chuckled, “Dark or light, I can see right though you.” Valerie closed the shutters and went back to her knitting.
Count Rugen tightened the thick leather straps on his victim’s arms and legs, then slowly lifts the lever to the first notch. Water begins to flow through the mill and The Machine roars into action. The detainee gritted his/her teeth hard as they squirmed and writhed in pain. “I just sucked away one year of your life.” Rugen said as he pushed the lever back down. The roar halted – the torture was over. He picked up his quill and paper and approached the limp body on the table. “What did this do to you? Tell me. And remember, this is for posterity, so be honest, how do you feel?" The victim just lay there, whimpering, tears rolling down their cheeks. After they were finally able to catch their breath, they groaned ever so faintly what Rugen was waiting to hear.
The seconds passed slowly. Mekal took a deep, raspy breath and flattened his palms against the table. He pushed himself up onto his feet; his face twisted with annoyance. “Better luck next time, little man.” he sneered, then re-mounted his horse and rode away.
“I admit it; you are better than I am,” sneered Roberts. Marth, confused, asked; “Then why are you smiling?” “I know something you don’t know, dear Prince – I am not left-handed!” Roberts gave a mighty shove, freeing himself from under Marth’s blade. He tossed his sword up into the air and quickly snatched it back with his right hand! Round and round he swung the sword with masterful skill. Marth knew he had met his match. He lowered his sword and pricked it into the rocky soil on which he stood. “Take me with you to your ship, Roberts. We’d make a good team. I could be your first mate.” Marth spoke calmly, confidently.
Roberts raised his sword and plunged it deep into Marth’s chest. “The Dread Pirate Roberts never takes prisoners!” He spat at Marth’s dead body, dusted his hands and walked away.
The crowd soon lost interest in the corpse that now lay in a pool of dirt and blood. They filed back inside the tavern to resume their meals and sing praises to the Prince; all except for one old man with wiry white hair. Max knelt beside Frozen, pulled a lump of chocolate from his pocket, opened the dead man’s mouth and shoved the pill in. Instantly Frozen’s eyes began to blink, his fingers to wiggle. Max stood up, turned, and walked back inside; “Humperdinck! I hate that guy!” he mumbled to himself.
|Day 1 - One small step for Florin, one giant step for the goodies|
|The people of Florin gathered in the city square. On one side of the square there was a statue of Prince Humperdinck which perfectly captured his hauty nature. On the opposite side of the square stood the gallows. They all had come to discuss last night’s events; events that had left many of them scared, one of them dead, and all of them baffled. They came for blood.
One after another they shot out questions and accusations: “Who was Marth?” “Was he a goodie or a baddie?” “Who can we trust?”
Y-san stepped forward into the center of the crowd, “Okay, I confess…I did it!” she said with a shy giggle. Some of the townsfolk shot her an odd look; others ignored her altogether; all of them continued in their ranting, their speculations and theories. Y-san was hurt at having been brushed-off so quickly. She flagged her arms above her head so as to be sure to get everyone’s attention and shouted louder this time; “Vote for me…or die!”
The townspeople stopped their bickering and turned to see who exactly this lunatic was that would dare people to lynch her. Y-san just stared back at them confidently. The crowd grew hushed, confused by what they were witnessing…a first in Mafia history. After what seemed to be a long and uncomfortable pause, DMS broke the silence; “Fine! If that’s what you want, I’ll vote for you.” Cherry Lane quickly agreed, “I think I understand where you’re coming from, Y-san…I’ll vote for you too.”
Y-san looked relieved; “Thanks…and don’t change your mind!” Her smile broadened, as if to say, “don’t worry, this is what is best for everyone.”
One by one the townsfolk began to nod their heads, “Sure, you’ve got my vote.” “Mine too.” “And me!” From the back of the crowd, Brandon shouted “Blah, I guess we can call it a day then if everyone is not going to change their votes!” The crowd shouted their huzzahs and closed in on Y-san. She did not resist as they bound her hands behind her back.
They led her up to the gallows and the hangman slipped the noose around her neck. Y-san took one last look out over the crowd, her eyes sparkled with the joy of victory. The hangman gave the final nod, then heaved the lever and made the floor drop from beneath Y-san’s feet. But Y-san didn’t dangle, her neck did not snap. Everyone watched in amazement as she fell through the floor only to land standing solidly on the ground below. The hangman had not accounted for the height of the giant, the rope left enough slack for Y-san to land safely on her feet. However, the noose was just tight enough around her thick neck to restrict her airway, “You…have…done …well,” she choked out with labored breaths. “I…” *gasp* “…mean…it!” Her face was beginning to turn bright red. The hangman, realizing his mistake, ran to cut the rope loose; “Any-…body…want..” *wheeze* “…a…peanut?” At that, her head fell limp. The rope above Y-san snapped beneath the pressure of the hangman’s knife and her unconscious body fell to the ground. It took all of the men in the crowd to lift the giant and carry her back to her home.
“Make way for Fezzik!” they shouted, “a hero and a martyr!”
|Night 2 - The best laid plans of Florinian men oft go awry|
|A dense fog rolled over the Florin countryside giving the evening an eerie chill. The Florin Trio sat in their hideout planning their next move. “The night is still young and this fog will help protect our identity. We’ve got a lot of work to do, so let’s get to it!” The men stood up, but Count Rugen did not head toward the door; instead he returned to his work in The Pit of Despair where his latest victim lay whimpering. He bent down and whispered into his victim’s ear; “Are you ready to tell me your name, or would you like to go another round with The Machine?”
Woon walked through the forest toward home. The fog was so thick that he couldn’t see more than 5 meters’ distance. “Well, well…what do we have here?” came a cackling voice from somewhere nearby. Woon spun around but was as good as blind in the fog. “Woon, you sly fellow, did you really think you could live through this entire game? Well, I’ve come to make sure that doesn’t happen!”
Vizzini stepped out from behind a tree. When he came into view, Woon addressed him; “Vizzini, I think you’re targeting the wrong guy.”
“Am I going mad, or did the word THINK escape your lips? If you truly are a thinking man, then you will accept my challenge.”
“Challenge? Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. Now sit down on this stump while I prepare the drinks.”
The Professor sat at his regular table at the tavern, tearing away at the same dish he always ordered: haggis with boiled red cabbage. He was so engrossed in his meal that he didn’t notice the young lady approaching him. She pulled out a chair and sat directly across from him. “What the…!” The Professor snapped as he lifted his eyes to see who would be so rude as to interrupt his dinner, “…WHOA!” Templeton was instantly mesmerized by the beauty sitting across from him. “To what do I owe this pleasure, Princess?” His face displayed the goofy smile of puppy love, a strand of cabbage stuck between his front teeth.
“Oh…I’ve always had eyes for you, Professor.” Buttercup batted her eyelashes playfully…she knew that the Professor was under her spell. Indeed he was. As Buttercup stood and prepared to leave, the Professor called after her, “Please, my lady, wherever you’re going, take me with you!”
“Don’t you have someplace to be, Professor?” she said coyly.
“Oh that,” he said, “It’s of no matter now…the only thing I care about tonight is you.”
Valerie pulled the bucket up from the well. She sat it on the ledge and untied the rope from the handle. “Can I help you carry that?” came a voice she had heard before; “Well hello! How nice to see you again! I surely would appreciate your help.” She said. The two walked back toward Valerie’s cottage, chatting and laughing all the way.
The Narrator blew the dust from the pages of the novel. “So now...where were we? Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Oh...okay.” He looked at the beautifully detailed illustration that covered the first page of the chapter. “I’ve always like that one,” he said to himself.
The Albino, Max and the Clergyman all wandered around town, their plans to protect the people of Florin didn’t quite work out as they had expected.
“Why drinks?” Woon asked his captor.
“Because that’s just what I do; It’s my thing. Now shut up!”
Vizzini poured wine into the three goblets and explained the battle of wits to Woon, “Two of these three are laced with Iocane powder, which as everyone knows, comes from Australia, and Australia is entirely peopled with criminals, and criminals are not used to having people trust them as, just as I am not trusted by you…so you clearly have a slim chance of surviving the night.”
“Truly you have a dizzying intellect,” Woon said rolling his eyes. “I’ll choose this one.” He said and poured the drink into his mouth until the last drop ran down his chin. “I don’t feel any effects; I must have chosen correctly.” Woon grinned.
“That’s only what you think, you fool...” but before Vizzini had a chance to finish his rant Woon cut in.
“I switched the glasses when you weren’t looking,” he said, then he stood up and resumed his walk back home.
Vizzini watched, stunned as Woon’s figure disappeared into the fog. “What? He didn’t die?! The poison failed two nights in a row? INCONCIEVABLE!”
|Day 2 - Insanity at the Cliffs|
|The crowd gathered by the rocky ledge. They had bound and gagged a man and dragged him to the Cliffs of Insanity. When they reached the top they layed him on the ground and several of the townspeople took the opportunity to kick him and to throw stones at him.
“Slick, aren’t you going to defend yourself?” one of the townspeople asked, in a provoking tone.
Slick wiggled and moaned, but the gag kept him from speaking. Cherry Lane stepped forward and removed the rag from his mouth. “I’d like to hear what he has to say.” she said.
Slick gave her a look of deep appreciation, took a few deep breaths then answered; “Those baddies know I am innocent. I should not be their scapegoat.” He choked then coughed up a small amount of blood which he spit into the dirt his face was pressed against. He swallowed hard and continued; “However, in the event that I do die. Please keep this informative message in mind: If I am gone, we will need all the help we can get!”
“We don’t believe you!” someone shouted.
“That’s a baddie defense if I ever heard one,” said another.
Slick tried to roll himself onto his back, but with his hands tied he just looked a turtle who had been flipped onto his shell, struggling and rocking himself side-to-side; “Oy Vey! What the heck is wrong with this town? Do you people always play follow the leader?” he spat in disgust. “Don't say I didn't try to keep you all from making this foolish, foolish, foolish, foolish mistake.”
“That’s enough out of you!” one of them said and shoved the gag back into his mouth.
Another man rushed forward and with a devilish look in his eye, reared his foot and gave Slick a mighty kick to his ribs. A sickening crack echoed through the crowd.
“Throw him off the cliff!” He shouted. “The Cliff!” the crowd chanted again and again.
The men grabbed Slick by the shoulders and the feet and carried him to the edge of the cliff. They began to swing him back and forth, gaining momentum for the throw. Posted Image
A wild scream came from the outskirts of the crowd. “Liiiiiaaaaarrrrs!” screamed Valerie, “Let my Max go!!”
She pushed her way through the crowd screaming wildly, but by the time she reached the cliff’s edge, Max had already hit the base far below.
|Night 3 – You win some, You lose some|
FIF mounted his horse and took off through the countryside. The sun was starting to set and he was growing hungry. “Perhaps I shall grab something from the tavern on my way into town,” he thought to himself. Just then he spotted another rider heading the opposite direction down the same path…coming right toward him, and quickly at that. FIF strained his eyes to see who it was that was in such a hurry. “Ug, Humperdinck! I think I’ve lost my appetite.”
Woon is headed toward the tavern for a quick bite to eat, he had once heard Max say that they served the best MLT (mutton, lettuce and tomato) sandwiches, where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomatoes are ripe, “They’re so perky!” Max had praised. As he walked, Woon day dreamed of the tasty sandwich, his mouth began to water, he picked up his pace.
“Where are you going in such a hurry?” came the same cackling voice that had spooked him the night before.
“You again?” said Woon; “Why don’t you just leave me alone Vizzini?”
“I’ll leave you alone alright…once you’re dead!”
The Prince approached FIF and began to slow down. “Ah, FIF, how lucky of me to cross paths with you tonight. In fact, you are just the man I’ve been looking for.” “Excellent!” said FIF cheerfully; “Although I was really hoping to avoid you.” The two men dismounted, hands on their swords.
Buttercup finished lacing the bodice of her form-fitting dress. She stood in front of the mirror and adjusted her cleavage. “There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world…but not in this room.” she purred; “Frozen will be mine tonight!”
“Now choose!” bullied Vizzini; he shoved the three cups out toward Woon.
“Why do you bother, little man? I have beat you once, I can do it time and time again…after all, I have spent the last 17 years building up an immunity to Iocane powder…your poison has no affect on me!” With that said, Woon yanks a goblet from Vizzini’s fingers causing him to loose his grip on the other two which went splashing to the ground. He slowly sipped the wine from his chosen goblet: “Chianti, is it?” Woon asked, “This will go nicely with my MLT. May I take this to go?” Still sipping from the wine, he walked on toward the tavern.
Round and round the swords flew. FIF lunging toward the Prince, the Prince leaping toward FIF. Their skills were equally matched…and neither was left-handed. Leaves were tossed back up into the air by their footwork and crushed into dust by their pounding boots. The men dueled for what seemed like an exhausting eternity, but neither of them would back down until the other was dead. Then a noise came from a short distance away, both men startled and turned, taking their attention off each other for no more than a split second. But that split second was all the Humperdinck needed to plow his sword through the FIF’s chest. FIF stumbled and fell, his sword flung off into the scattering of dead leaves. He clutched his chest and gasped, “This is not how I was supposed to go.” His voice trailed off into eternal silence.
Frozen was already a little tipsy from the pint he had just finished when Buttercup arrived at the tavern. There was a collective “ahhhhh” from all the men in the room when Buttercup stepped through the door; Frozen was not exempt. He had never seen such a ravishing beauty…she took his breath away. And what was this? She was heading right toward him!
Vizzini chased after Woon, “Hey, you! Give me back my goblet! I don’t want it found as evidence near your dead body.”
Woon glared back at him; “Leave me alone, Vizzini, or this will become More than a battle of wits.”
"You fool!" Vizzini laughed, "You have fallen victim to one of the classic blunders! The most famous is never get involved in a land war in Asia, but only slightly less well-known is this: never go in against a Sicilian when death is on the line!!”
Woon just rolled his eyes…”I told you that I can’t be killed by Iocane powder.”
“That’s why I used Cyanide! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!! Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!! Ha ha ha…” but a sickening thud cut Vizzini’s laughter short. Woon lay at his feet, dead.
Humperdinck climbed onto his horse and took hold of the reigns, but before he could give the horse a command, a dagger came flying from out of nowhere and struck him right between the eyes. He toppled off his horse and lay in crumpled, motionless heap on the ground, his royal velvet stained with his own blood.
Frozen lept to his feet to greet her. She held out her hands and her gentley kissed the back of each. "Please join me?" he asked. Buttercup giggled and played with the pearls around her neck. She sat with her shoulders back so as to heave her chest out. Frozen, stared at her longingly; “I had made plans tonight, but I would rather stay here with you.”
Buttercup batted her eyelashes at him; “Sucker!” she thought. With a syrupy sweet voice she replied, “Yes, of course Darling, but I have alternate plans for you…” she leaned in close and whispered a name into his ear.
The Albino pushed his wheelbarrow into the clearing to find two men lying on the ground with mortal stab wounds. Although a dagger protruded from his frontal lobe and dried blood had crusted over the features of his face, the Albino recognized the Prince immediately. He gave a forceful yank and plucked the daggar from Humperdinck’s skull. Some fresh blood began to spill from the wound so the Albino torn off strips of fabric from his cloak and wrapped them tightly over the Prince’s forehead. He glabbed the limp body and heaved it into his wheelbarrow.
“Don’t worry Prince, he whispered; you’ll be good as new by morning.”
|Day 3 - Have fun storming the castle!|
|An angry mob of Florin commoners banged on the castle’s gate. The guards shook in fear; one soiled himself.
“Who has the key to this gate?” Star shouted at them.
“It’s h-h-HIM!” stuttered the one that reeked of his own urine; he pointed at the other guard opposite of him at the gate.
“Give us the gate key!” Cherry Lane demanded and held out her hand to receive it.
“I have no gate key,” the guard said playing innocent.
“Fezzik, tear his arms off!”
“Oh, this gate key…” the guard reached into his vest and pulled out a large metal ring with a thick key dangling from it.
CP snatched it and turned the lock. One mighty shove from Y-san and the gate flung open. The mob rushed inside the castle walls and up to the Prince’s chambers. Humperdinck heard them coming and tried to hide behind the large draperies that blackened out all sunlight from his suite. He could see nothing, but he heard the pounding followed by a crack and a loud crash.
“We know you’re in here, Humperdinck!” Buttercup shouted, “Show yourself, you coward! And when I say you are a coward, that is only because you are the slimiest weakling ever to crawl the earth!”
From the behind the draperies came an angry reply; “I would not say such things if I were you!”
Itachi pulled back the drapery to find the Prince red-faced and snarling, a large scab drawn between his eyes. He grabbed at his hip and began to draw his sword. Westley, who was already wielding his weapon stepped up; “Drop…your…Sword!” Humperdinck may have considered challenging Westely in a duel, but with the mob also jeering at him he realized he was hopelessly outnumbered and placed his sword on the floor.
“Tie him up!” Brandon ordered Fezzik; “And make it as tight as you like.” After the Prince was bound securely into his chair, DMS approached him. “We’ve come to put and end to the terror you’ve caused for the people of Florin. No longer will you ruthlessly kill innocent people in order to start a war that they will have to fight. Enjoy your last few breaths, Prince!” Mekal looked over at Westley with his sword still ready to strike; “Finish him!” he said.
“Gladly” Westley agreed. But just as his blade was about to finish what last night's dagger hadn't, Humperdinck’s head went limp, and his tightly bound body slumped in his chair.
A snicker came from the back of the mob and a little man pushed his way up to where Westley stood examining the Prince.
“No need to dirty your sword today, Friend, he’s already dead.”
“But, but………..how?” Westley looked confused.
“I put Iocane powder in the salve that the Albino applied to his wound,” Vizzini chuckled. “I knew it would take a while for enough to seep into his bloodstream, but once it did…well, take a look.” Vizzini lifted the Prince’s head; his eyes were already glazed over and his tongue beginning to dry in his mouth. He released Humperdinck’s head and it dropped like a rock to his chest.
“Uh, thanks??” Westley said…unsure of how to respond to his own enemy acting as an ally. “But you’d better run and hide, Vizzini, because I’m coming after you next!”
|Night 4 - It’s a Mad Mad Mad Mad Florin!|
|Buttercup took an especially long time primping herself this evening. She needed to be more than just her irresistible self tonight, no, tonight she was going for “man eater”…or in this case, “woman eater.” (no porn intended.)
Valerie was dressed in black, a veil over her face, when she walked into the tavern. The establishment was empty except for one man who sat alone at the bar. She passed by him en route to her table, but neither turned to look at each other. Valerie didn’t need to see his face to know who the man was and, more importantly, the goodness (or lack thereof) in his heart.
The sweet young thing in the beautiful blue gown approached the Clergyman. “Of cawse I wilw gib you my bwessing, my wady,” he smiled and patted her on the cheek. “Wet me pwepawr the ho-wee wawa.”
The thigh-high boots completed her dominatrix attire. Buttercup cracked her wrapped her whip around her tiny waist like a belt then headed out the door to rendezvous with CrazyPainter. “Surely, she is no match for me.” she thought to herself as she slipped out into the night.
The Narrator climbed the narrow wooden staircase to his bedroom, the large book wedged under his arm. He props up his pillow and slides under the quilt. “Now then, where was I?” He scans the pages; “Humperdink kills Roberts then gets stabbed in the face only to be healed by the Albino in the nick of time so that the mob could lynch him except that Vizzini poisoned him first. What a great story! And oh, what do we have here? Well, that’s no surprise…to me.”
CP was sitting on her front porch enjoying the multitude of stars that could be seen on this clear autumn night. What she didn’t see was the woman in black slinking her way through the trees and into her yard. “The stars are seductive aren’t they?” Buttercup said with a certain wanton tone in her voice. CP turned to see that Buttercup had made her way to the foot of the porch; “May I join you?” the Princess-turned-Playgirl asked. CP just stared at her in disbelief…and awe…and lust. “Please,” was all she could muster the voice to speak.
Rugen dragged Itachi kicking and screaming down into the depths of the pit of despair; Itachi could not escape the iron grip of the Count’s six fingers. Itachi looked over and saw the mammoth contraption that filled the far side of the lair and the attached table equipped with restraints.
“So it's to be torture then?” Itachi states more than asks. With an evil grin, the Count nods his head.
“I can cope with torture.”
The count looks at his pitiful victim and shakes his head in response. “No one withstands The Machine.”
The Clergyman returned from the alter and found the young woman deeply engaged in prayer. He clasped his liver-spotted hands over hers and bowed his head. “Fahfaw, I ask yoah bwessing upon viss guwl. Keep huw safe fwom hawhm. A-mewhn.
Buttercup reached out her gloved hand and placed a finger over CP’s lips. “Shhhhhh,” she comforted, “there’s no need for words…just action.” A shiver of excitement ran the full length of CP’s body; she leaned forward to kiss Buttercup, but caught her finger once again. “Not quite yet darling, first I need you to do me a favor.”
“Please,” was all CP could force from her mouth.
Once Itachi was secured on the table, Rugen hoisted the lever and began the experiment. One minute of torture, one minute of rest, one minute of torture, one minute of rest. The Count continued this circuit until Itachi’s weak voice finally found its way out of his lips; “Enough. I am Buttercup. Now please release me to my Westley.”
The Clergyman gave the young woman a holy kiss and sent her on her way. But the woman refused to leave. It seemed the Virgin Mother was pleased to remain on her pedestal inside the cathedral where she was safe from the elements. Posted Image
It was close to closing time when the bartender called for the last round. DMS sat half-folded over the bar with 5 empty steins in front of him. “Tab!” he called in an unnecessarily loud and somewhat slurred voice. “Are you sure I can’t buy you one for the road?” Vizzini said, as he sat down next to him.
DMS looked him over suspiciously, his head wobbling back and forth atop his neck as if he were a dashboard bobble-head. “Ah, what the hell?!” He shouted into Vizzini’s face causing the small man to retract to avoid the fumes from his breath.
“Barkeep, 3 glasses of your best Italian Red!”
The Count just laughed. “You see, my Lady, I was not interested in your name, that was information I already had. No, this time the information I seek is from The Machine itself. For the sake of science, I need to collect data on my invention. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to stand in the way of scientific discovery would you?”
A single tear rolled from Buttercup’s eye – she knew she would never see her Westley again. She closed her eyes and envisioned kissing her True Love goodbye.
Vizzini and DMS each grabbed a drink, with their arms around each others shoulders they clanked their goblets together and tipped them to their mouths. Well, DMS did, at least; Vizzini only pretended to drink. After DMS had swigged his wine, he slammed his empty goblet down on the bar; “Thanks, Vizz…….” but he went on to also slam his body down onto the sticky pub floor. Vizzini stood up and non-chalantly walked out of the tavern; “Last call indeed!” he snickered to himself.
|Day 4 - All good things must come to a happy ending|
|When Westley heard the news of Buttercup’s death he went into his room and locked the door. For days he neither slept nor ate. “I shall never love again” he said, his eyes hollow with grief.
“We have to avenge Buttercup’s death,” cried Cherry Lane. She had assembled the few remaining innocents together near the town square.
“Yes! Let’s run Vizzini out of town!” conferred Brandon. The others shook their heads solemnly.
Mekal stepped forward;“Well then, let’s go gather our weapons…we will reconvene in the clearing just outside the tavern in exactly one hour.”
The villagers returned bearing swords, pitchforks and other instruments of persuasion. It was decided that Valerie would be the one to lure Vizzini out of the tavern (as they had never met) and into the clutches of the awaiting group. She would pose as a angry wife who wanted to hire an experienced hit man to do away with her husband. The thought brought a tear to her eye, as she would give anything to hold her beloved Max just one more time.
Vizzini fell for the trap hook line and sinker, and followed Valerie straight into the vengeful arms of the townsfolk. Westley pulled his sword and pointed it directly at Vizzini’s heart. “Hello, my name is Westley the Farm Boy, you have killed my True Love, prepare to die.” He said solidly, but as soon as the words had been spoken, his heart was overcome with woe and he dropped to his knees and wept. Valerie put an arm around Mekal’s shaking shoulders, “It’s okay dear. It’s okay” she said tenderly.
“Excuse me,” CP said, “but what are you people talking about? I am not who you think I am…Brandon is Vizzini. I couldn’t hurt a fly!”
“Liar!” screeched Cherry Lane; “I know that Brandon’s heart is good.”
“And I know for a fact that you ARE Vizzini,” said the Narrator.
Mekal looked at Y-san; “Fezzik, finish him! Your way!”
The Giant grinned; “Oh good, my way. Thank you, Westley. Uh… What way is my way?”
“Pick up one of those dodgeballs which, just by fortunate happenstance, are stacked over here next to the tavern. The minute his head is in view…and the rest of us are out of the way…HIT IT WITH THE BALL!”
“My way is not very sportsman-like.” Fezzik grumbled.
But when Fezzik turned to grab his weapon-of-choice, Vizzini took advantage of the opening in the group and ran for it. Surprised that they were foolish enough to let him loose the townsfolk all stared at one another for a split second then regained their wits and took off after him.
They chased Vizzini down the ravine floor and straight into the Fireswamp. “You’ll never survive!” shouted Y-san.
“Nonsense!” yelled Vizzini as he ran through the thick overgrowth and out of sight; “You’re only saying that because no one ever has!”
The last they saw of Vizzini was his shadow disappearing into the thick overgrowth. No one dared follow him. Then, not too far off, they heard a rustling in the swamp, a growl and a series of screams. Vizzini, it seemed, had become dinner for the ROUSs (Rodents of Unusual Size.)
A feeling of victory swept over the group…they new that peace had been restored to Florin. One-by-one they turned to walk away..all except for Westley who remained, transfixed on the darkness of the Fireswamp. Valerie notice that Westley had not followed the group as they left. She approached him; “Are you okay, Westley?” There was an awkward silence, and then he turned and looked into her old, but kind eyes.
“Buttercup and I were going to build a summer home here,” whimpered the teary-eyed Farm Boy, “the trees are actually quite lovely.” He closed his hands over his heart; “But now my life is over. I don’t want to go on without her!”
At that instant a thought came to light in Valerie’s mind; she remembered something that Max had told her shortly before he died. “It just might work!” she exclaimed to herself. Westley looked at her confused, but before he could inquire about the statement, Valerie had raced off.
Back at her cottage, Valerie removed the lid off the old canister on the top shelf. “Ah…here you are.” She tucked the nugget into her pocket and headed back out the door. When she arrived at the farm she found Westley hiding in a horse stall out in the barn. She would have had trouble finding him and may have even assumed he was not home if it weren’t for the loud, uncontrollable sobs that led her straight to him. "Come with me, Boy," she beckoned.
When the two reached the pit of despair the Albino was nowhere to be found, Westley sheathed his sword and the two went inside. When they reached the bottom of the staircase they saw her. There, across the room, lying strapped to a table was Buttercup’s body. Westley couldn’t help but let out a small sob at the sight of his beloved lying cold on the slab where Rugen had so ruthlessly taken her life.
Westley turned to Valerie, “Will it work?” he asked, and held his breath waiting for her to reply with the words he needed to hear.
“It will take a miracle” she said. Westley instantly deflated. “But that was Max’s specialty – he wasn’t called Miracle Max for nothing, kiddo!” She gave Westley a hearty slap on the back. Then she reached into her pocket and plucked out the chocolate pill. "He hid it just for me," she explained; "but I'm sure that he would agree that yours is a much more noble cause.
Westley gave Buttercup a tender kiss on the lips before opening her mouth and inserting the pill. He stepped back to witness the miracle take place. The seconds ticked by like centuries as the two watched and waited. One minute…no movement; Three minutes; no breaths; Ten minutes…still nothing.
After an excruciating half-hour, Valerie spoke; “I don’t know why it’s not working? Perhaps the pill was too old? …It had been hidden away in that canister for quite some time. Oh, Westley, I’m so sorry!”
Westley turned to look at her, but his face no longer displayed sorrow but fury. “You evil witch! How dare you toy with my grief! I shall have you hanged for deceiving me so!”
“I’m not a witch, I’m your friend! But I don’t think I want to be that anymore after what you just said!”
Then they heard it; the faintest whisper, “Westley,” came Buttercup's sweet voice. “Westley, I love you.”
“Oh my darling Buttercup!” Westley shouted in elation, “You’re alive! You’ve come back to me!” He began kissing every inch of her face.
“Gently” she said, her voice still faint.
Westley pulled his head back to look at her, “I’m so sorry Darling, are you alright?”
“We’re together again, Westley; if you want I could fly!”
End of Game RosterEdit
- Slick - Miracle Max – Lynched D2
- Itachi-san - Princess Buttercup - Killed N4 by Vizzini
- Prince_Marth85 - Inigo Montoya - Killed N1 by Roberts
- Brandonb - The Narrator
- Frozen_in_Fire - The Dread Pirate Roberts - Killed N3 by Humperdinck
- CrazyPainter - Vizzini - Lynched D4
- Woon - The Albino – Killed N3 by Vizzini
- Mekal - Westley
- CherryLane - Valerie
- Prof. Templeton - Prince Humperdinck - Lynched D3
- Yoruichi-san - FezzikLynch D1 saved, revealed as Fezzik
- DMS172 - Count Rugen - Killed N4 by Vizzini
- Star_Tiger - The Clergyman