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Source: (consider it)
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Thread: Circus: Mafia - the Valley of the Kings
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la vie en rouge
Parisienne
# 10688
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Posted
It’s been too long… With the permission of our august and benevolent Circus hosts, welcome to a new mafia game.
For those unfamiliar with the game (or the particular way we play it here on the Ship) there are a couple of old games archived in Limbo. If I do say so myself, this one features me wiping out a whole town ![[Snigger]](graemlins/snigger.gif) Looking at previous games will also acquaint you with some of the Ship’s regular players, which could be handy. You can also look at the Wikipedia page for Mafia (game). This is my first attempt at moderating, so I’m not planning anything too complicated (although there may a couple of little twists to keep myself entertained ![[Biased]](wink.gif) )
I’ll leave sign-up open until the end of the week and come back with detailed rules when it gets to that. Please make sure you are going to have regular internet access for the duration otherwise these games tend to drag on interminably. Realistically I think you’ll need to be able to get on-line at least every 24 hours or so.
So off we go for another round of murder and conspiracy ![[Cool]](cool.gif) Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin…
______________________
Camp Sarastro is blistering under the heat of the Egyptian sun. The mercury is about to hit 38°.
But the camp’s leader, Lord Archibald Whisker, doesn’t even notice the sweltering heat. He’s almost giddy with excitement. A mere 18 hours ago, all his long years of searching finally paid off. No matter how impossible it seemed, no matter how many times he was told to forget about it, he’d always known that it had to be there. And now at last he’s proved them all wrong and found it – the long-lost and unopened tomb of Pharaoh Senkhet III himself.
As Whisker walked inside the entrance yesterday and read the hieroglyphs by the flickering light of his torch, he knew he’d been born for this moment. He first read the story of Senkhet as a small boy, and with the passing years it has become an obsession. The search has cost him thousands of pounds, and eventually caused his friends and acquaintances to question his sanity, but he never doubted that it had to be true.
They haven’t got very far inside yet, but he’s sure that they’re going to find treasures on a scale never before seen in the history of Egyptology. The young king Senkhet was said to be rich beyond imagining, and was buried in a manner befitting one called a son of the gods. They’ve pulled out a few artefacts already and they are magnificent – gold cups and small pieces of jewellery sparkling with gems that are still bright millennia after they were hidden away. The hieroglyphs seem as bright as the day when they were painted. No one will ever forget Archibald Whisker or his unprecedented discovery.
One thing is gnawing away at him, nonetheless. Whisker is of course familiar with the curse that was placed on Senkhet’s tomb when it was sealed, which he has never been quite able to dismiss as a legend. After all, wasn’t Senkhet himself supposed to be a legend? Considering the dazzling riches that he knew to be contained there, he had decided it was a risk worth taking, but in the last couple of days, he’s been given pause. A line broke yesterday, breaking the arm of one of the Egyptian workers, and another found a snake in his bag. A couple of days earlier, one of the Europeans was unwell with a fever and vomiting. The doctor said that he’d eaten something that disagreed with him, but Whisker is secretly disquieted. He pushes it out of his mind and thinks back to the untold riches that await him underground.
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Archeologists, local workers and hangers-on of all descriptions are all welcome at Camp Sarastro. Don’t forget your sun-hats.
[ 03. May 2011, 13:35: Message edited by: Chorister ]
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Rent my holiday home in the South of France
Posts: 3696 | Registered: Nov 2005
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Adam.
Like as the
# 4991
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Posted
Haji was unsure what to think about this foreigner, Whisker's, excavation. He spent a restless Thursday night tossing and turning, unsure of what to preach to his flock at Friday prayers the next day. As their Imam, he knew they'd be looking to him for leadership
On the one hand, he was pleased that more jobs would be available in this area. And, of course, he didn't believe in all of this curse mumbo jumbo. But he did worry that other people would and this would distract them from true religion. We shouldn't be reminding people of Egypt's pagan past, but concentrating on our Islamic future.
[ 10. October 2010, 16:33: Message edited by: Hart ]
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
Preaching blog
Posts: 8164 | From: Notre Dame, IN | Registered: Sep 2003
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El Greco
Shipmate
# 9313
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Posted
Andrew was Lord Archibald Whisker's son. His father initiated him in egyptology in his early childhood, and he loved the ancient way. In fact, he was a believer in the old gods, but he kept his faith secret. Not even his father knew about his son's religious practices.
The wealth left him cold. It was all about the ancient artifacts. In that tomb, there were relics of unimaginable importance, religious objects of immense power. The ancients have dwelled into the mysteries of the after life, and their gods, the true gods, were more powerful than anything else in the world. Andrew felt it was time for the old religion to be revived, and the other members of his sect agreed with him.
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Ξέρω εγώ κάτι που μπορούσε, Καίσαρ, να σας σώσει.
Posts: 11285 | Registered: Apr 2005
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Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153
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Posted
I'm in.
I usually like to see what my character is hiding before choosing a public persona, but if vie would prefer us to give names and backgrounds now then I will.
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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"
Richard Dawkins
Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005
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CuppaT
Shipmate
# 10523
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Posted
Papagena was small and black. Her ancestors had wandered around the tombs for centuries, in and out unnoticed among both the silent ones and the noisy camps. Mostly Papagena watched. Occasionally her tail would twitch back and forth as she thought.
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Stand at the brink of the abyss of despair, and when you see that you cannot bear it any longer, draw back a little and have a cup of tea.
~Elder Sophrony
Posts: 919 | From: the edge of the Ozarks | Registered: Oct 2005
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Ariston
Insane Unicorn
# 10894
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Posted
Oh no—Eliab's playing again? We're all doomed.
Lieutenant Owain D. R. Madoc, 24th Regiment of Foot hung his heavy wool coat on a tent pole (who's brilliant idea was it to issue coats to soldiers in a desert?) and set to work cleaning and polishing his rifle. Again.
Quite honestly, he wasn't sure what exactly he and his men were supposed to be doing in this Godforsaken desert (something about "looking for Frenchmen" was what he'd heard from Major Davies, but, as far as he was concerned, the bloody frogs could have this awful Hellhole to themselves), but, if they were here, they might as well be civilized. Plus, all that gold Lord Whasisname kept talking about wasn't going to guard itself, now was it?
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“Therefore, let it be explained that nowhere are the proprieties quite so strictly enforced as in men’s colleges that invite young women guests, especially over-night visitors in the fraternity houses.” Emily Post, 1937.
Posts: 6849 | From: The People's Republic of Balcones | Registered: Jan 2006
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Herrick
Shipmate
# 15226
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Posted
Professor Craig Champion, world renowned expert in Egyptology, hieroglyphics and the Royal Dynasties of Egypt. Craig poured himself a small sherry before sitting at his desk in Oxford and picking up the scarab headed letter opener to open the latest correspondence from his source in north Africa.
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A careless shoestring in whose tie
I see a wild civility
Posts: 1194 | From: NSW | Registered: Oct 2009
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Dafyd
Shipmate
# 5549
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Posted
I'm in.
Name and details to follow.
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we remain, thanks to original sin, much in love with talking about, rather than with, one another. Rowan Williams
Posts: 10567 | From: Edinburgh | Registered: Feb 2004
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Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153
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Posted
(Can we have an indication of what year this is?)
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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"
Richard Dawkins
Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005
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fletcher christian
Mutinous Seadog
# 13919
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Posted
Mr Seth wrapped his head lightly in the linen and turned to face the the sand laden wind. Despite the dry air and blistering conditions, he knew he was on to a winner. Mechanical help out here was of little use to anyone on a dig. The sand destroyed everything when the wind got up. Mr Seth knew his camels would come in handy sooner or later and it was only a matter of waiting and negotiating a price.
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'God is love insaturable, love impossible to describe'
Staretz Silouan
Posts: 5235 | From: a prefecture | Registered: Jul 2008
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Imaginary Friend
Real to you
# 186
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Posted
I'm in, I think. Character to follow...
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"We had a good team on paper. Unfortunately, the game was played on grass."
Brian Clough
Posts: 9455 | From: Left a bit... Right a bit... | Registered: May 2001
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Wet Kipper
Circus Runaway
# 1654
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Posted
Tavish McCallum rubbed the remainder of the evening's meal from his ginger moustache.
He couldn't remember explicitly agreeing to help Whisker out on his expedition, nor the terms of his "employment", but if you choose to conduct business whilst in the Vale of Tranquility then that's your own silly fault, which ever side of the table you were on (or under) at the time.
Besides, Tavish's dad had been a long time pal of Archie's father, Major General Bertram Whisker when they served in the Army. (Tavish smiled at remembering his dad's nickname for the Major - "saved-by-a" - following his ability to narrowly cheat death, helped in no small part by the quick thinking of his right hand man, old man McCallum).
The heat and the sun wasn't helping his fair complexion - you never got weather like this back in Auchenshoogle - and the local brew wasn't on a par with his usual tipple at the old Hog's Oxters, but if there was gold to be had in helping the memory of his old man be continued, doing a family friend a favour, he could put up with that for the time being.
[ 12. October 2010, 13:05: Message edited by: Wet Kipper ]
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- insert randomly chosen, potentially Deep and Meaningful™ song lyrics here -
Posts: 9841 | From: further up the Hill | Registered: Nov 2001
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Wet Kipper
Circus Runaway
# 1654
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by AristonAstuanax:
Oh no—Eliab's playing again? We're all doomed.
depends if you're on Eliab's side or not ![[Two face]](graemlins/scot_twoface.gif)
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- insert randomly chosen, potentially Deep and Meaningful™ song lyrics here -
Posts: 9841 | From: further up the Hill | Registered: Nov 2001
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la vie en rouge
Parisienne
# 10688
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by Wet Kipper:
quote:
Originally posted by AristonAstuanax:
Oh no—Eliab's playing again? We're all doomed.
depends if you're on Eliab's side or not
You also have to factor in that his nemesis (ie me) isn't playing this time
(the scores are currently at one each - I have caught him once, and he has murdered me once)
OTOH, a Shiply mafia game just isn't the same without Eliab Eliabssen and I for one am glad he's in.
Currently we have nine players, ten if Imaginary Friend decides to join:
Hart
El Greco
CuppaT
Ariston Astuanax
Herrick
Dafyd
Eliab
fletcher christian
Wet Kipper
(Imaginary Friend)
I think Camp Sarastro could do with a few more women - don't be shy ladies! (although extra male players are obviously welcome as well)
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Rent my holiday home in the South of France
Posts: 3696 | Registered: Nov 2005
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Imaginary Friend
Real to you
# 186
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Posted
I could play a lady, if that helps.
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"We had a good team on paper. Unfortunately, the game was played on grass."
Brian Clough
Posts: 9455 | From: Left a bit... Right a bit... | Registered: May 2001
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Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505
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Posted
Lady Bernadine Haighton-Chatworthy is in!
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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.
Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005
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Autenrieth Road
Shipmate
# 10509
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Posted
Rose Autenrieth settled her sunhat a little more firmly. The best part of her graduate program in archaeology was coming on these digs. Who knew what might be discovered?
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Truth
Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005
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Sylvander
Shipmate
# 12857
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Posted
Arsène Beauregard leant back in his armchair in the shade of his tentscreen, careful not to dishevel his long black hair, stroking his moustache complacently. A gentle sigh of pleasure greeted the glass of lemonade Ahmed had brought him as he watched the group assembled at a small distance. Life in the desert had become rather lively of late. The arrival of these étrangers brought a pleasant kind of buzz to the dunes. But, goodness, how uncultivated they were! One of them even did his rifle-cleaning in public and broad daylight! And how superstitious they all were, delightful!
Secure in the knowledge that his great-grandfather had once landed in these parts with the général! and due to the fact that Arsène himself had settled here a few years ago he felt entitled to a first-comer's extra-dose of Gallic arrogance towards these Eengleesh.
Still, curiosity and a longing for European food had made him get involved with this funny bunch of grave-diggers. About his other motives he was determined to keep silent a bit longer ...
PS:
I should like to join but from tomorrow until 15 Oct I can probably only get online a bit irregularly. After that I am fine. If that is too big a problem Arsène shall have to withdraw.
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A martyr is someone living with a saint.
2509
Posts: 1589 | From: Berlin | Registered: Jul 2007
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la vie en rouge
Parisienne
# 10688
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Posted
I'm happy to do my best to help Arsène play the game. I'm planning to distribute roles this weekend - let me know (by PM) if you Arsène needs me to proxy vote for him at any point.
rouge x
(got in a muddle about who's whose proxy ![[Hot and Hormonal]](icon_redface.gif) )
[ 13. October 2010, 13:26: Message edited by: la vie en rouge ]
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Rent my holiday home in the South of France
Posts: 3696 | Registered: Nov 2005
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Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153
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Posted
quote:
Originally posted by la vie en rouge:
(the scores are currently at one each - I have caught him once, and he has murdered me once)
(I'd score it one-nil in your favour. It being a team game, and only the team result counting for anything, the one concluded game between us was won by you.
I was quite pleased with the way I played both games, because the tactical aim of identifying and eliminating most or all of the town's ‘specials' was achieved, but that means nothing unless it's converted into a team victory."
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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"
Richard Dawkins
Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005
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Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153
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Posted
A suggestion to make before we start (and before I know whether I benefit from it): don't give the town too many specials. It's possible (and IMAO, more satisfying) for the town to win by deduction rather than investigation, and I think it's a better game if the town is under time pressure to guess right, rather than expecting their detectives to solve everything.
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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"
Richard Dawkins
Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005
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Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505
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Posted
Lady Bernardine Haighton-Chatsworthy leaned back on the camel, making her formidable stays creak alarmingly. It may be hot, but the elegantly tailored ladies safari jacket would simply not look proper without the right foundations underneath it. She adjusted the net veil which swathed her pith helmet and with her riding crop tapped the shoulder of the camelteer beside her impatiently.
"I am very keen to get going you know. Why on earth is everyone taking so long to get ready?"
Lady Bernardine, knowing that some on this expedition might think her a hindrance, had been up since the crack of dawn. She was more than ready, because she had been commandeering people to do all kinds of things on her behalf for the last two hours. She had no notion whatever that this might not be taken well in some quarters. After all, she was the money.
It was her bankroll that was underwriting the expedition, and she was coming along to make sure that everything went according to plan as much as possible. She was absolutely determined that her guineas, and any artefacts found, were not going to 'disappear' through the hands of shady dealings. This was her bounden duty and she was going to see it through to its right conclusion.
She tapped the camelteer on the shoulder again. "Well?"
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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.
Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005
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Sylvander
Shipmate
# 12857
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Posted
Thanks, l.i.r.
I'll do my best to log on whenever I can, as I am moving from town to town until mid-week it will depend on the infrastructure of French and Breton internet cafés.
Will let you know if vote by proxy is required.
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A martyr is someone living with a saint.
2509
Posts: 1589 | From: Berlin | Registered: Jul 2007
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la vie en rouge
Parisienne
# 10688
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Posted
Bernadine needs to be patient a little bit longer, but we'll be starting soon. I'm going to hand out roles this Saturday afternoon my time (GMT+2). Feel free to explore the desert in the meantime tho.
So far we have unlucky 13 players:
Hart
El Greco
CuppaT
Ariston Astuanax
Herrick
Dafyd
Eliab
fletcher christian
Wet Kipper
Imaginary Friend
Banner Lady
Autenrieth Road
Sylvander
Any more for any more?
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Rent my holiday home in the South of France
Posts: 3696 | Registered: Nov 2005
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Dafyd
Shipmate
# 5549
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Posted
Sergeant Dai Mortal, discharged, sat in the bar with a whisky wondering how to persuade the barman to let him have another. He was of course perfectly sober. It wasn't even lunchtime yet.
He wished he was back home. He wished it would rain.
The news of the tomb filled him with dread and foreboding. Nothing good came of opening tombs. Only spiders and noises in the night and tentacles...
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we remain, thanks to original sin, much in love with talking about, rather than with, one another. Rowan Williams
Posts: 10567 | From: Edinburgh | Registered: Feb 2004
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Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505
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Posted
The photo opportunity on the camel now being over, Lady Bernardine descended down the steps Seth had so obligingly placed next to the beast. It was still complaining loudly as she paid for the plate and arranged for copies of the photo to be sent back to all her friends in the Society of the Eastern Star in England. She hoped the photographer was trustworthy. One simply never knew with these foreign types, so she hinted at arranging much more business for him as the dig progressed.
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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.
Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005
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Sir Kevin
Ship's Gaffer
# 3492
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Posted
I'm refusing to play because in the last two games I was deprived of any active participation after a miniscule amount of elapsed time!
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If you board the wrong train, it is no use running along the corridor in the other direction Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Writing is currently my hobby, not yet my profession.
Posts: 30517 | From: White Hart Lane | Registered: Oct 2002
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Imaginary Friend
Real to you
# 186
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Posted
I've just had a good idea for a character, but I don't have time to write it up right now. Will tomorrow be okay?
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"We had a good team on paper. Unfortunately, the game was played on grass."
Brian Clough
Posts: 9455 | From: Left a bit... Right a bit... | Registered: May 2001
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Ariston
Insane Unicorn
# 10894
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Posted
"Well, Lieutenent, in order to do that, we'd need more rations shipped from Britain."
"All I want, sir, is for my men to have enough to live off of. Is that really such an unreasonable request?"
"We're in the middle of a desert, Mr. Madoc. When have you seen any food that we didn't have shipped in ourselves?"
Owain dearly wanted to tell Captain Davies that the souk really wasn't that far away, and was usually full of food, but that would probably get him a good lecture on "what is fit food for an Englishman." Lieutenent Madoc had received several such lectures from his superior officer, which were all the more infuriating coming from the only Englishman in the company.
"No, no sir. I have not seen any such thing."
Well, it wasn't much of a lie. Truth be told, he hadn't seen much food that had been shipped in.
Owain left the commander's headquarters and found his colour sergeant.
"Mr. Coombs—"
"Sir?"
"Get your men together while I have a word with the quartermaster. We may be conducting a raid in force this afternoon."
"Yes sir."
A quick visit to the quartermaster sergeant and Lieutenant Madoc had a small amount of "unauthorized" funds, a small train of camels, and enough sacks and baskets to conduct a sizable raid on the market. Gathering intelligence, outthinking your enemy, and seeking any advantage you could against your opponent—these were the skills that Owain had learned in the army, and was about to employ in haggling in the souk.
"Platoon, atten-TION!"
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“Therefore, let it be explained that nowhere are the proprieties quite so strictly enforced as in men’s colleges that invite young women guests, especially over-night visitors in the fraternity houses.” Emily Post, 1937.
Posts: 6849 | From: The People's Republic of Balcones | Registered: Jan 2006
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Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505
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Posted
" Dearest Madeleine,
I have at last arrived at Camp Sarastro. The journey was quite arduous, although I believe I have already acquainted you with the vicissitudes of life in Cairo. No, my dear, I do not think the desert is at all romantic. There was a scorpion in one of my shoes this morning. Naturally I disposed of it myself, without troubling the native porters who are quite spooked by the meerest things. They are a funny lot, and extremely uncivilized. How they ever managed to build more than simple huts I will never know.
Anyway, to answer your question, yes there is something you can do for me. I am enclosing a special packet of my jottings for the Society. Please deliver them to the Secretary as soon as you get them. Thank you my dear.
Yours etc.
L__y B. Haighton-Chats__y"
Lady B. signed the note with a flourish, sealed it into a large waxed envelope along with a small packet of papers, and went to look for a deliverer. She knew Archie regularly sent and received things via a postbag, but she did not know whose job it was, as yet, to ride in and out of camp with the mail. She hoped it was one of the splendid looking military gentlemen, and not some ragtag native boy.
"Yoohoo! Yoohoo, Archie-kins! I want to ask you something!"...
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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.
Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005
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la vie en rouge
Parisienne
# 10688
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Posted
No problem for writing up your character today/tomorrow, IF.
Sir Kevin, if I could guarantee your survival at least 24 hours of game time (and I can because I'm in charge here at Camp Sarastro ), would you be persuaded to play?
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Rent my holiday home in the South of France
Posts: 3696 | Registered: Nov 2005
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Smudgie
Ship's Barnacle
# 2716
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Posted
Sand. Sand in her shoes and in her stockings and even between her toes. Sand in her pockets. Sand in her eyes, and her nostrils, and under her fingernails. Sand, even, in her cucumber sandwiches which she had so carefully prepared for the journey.
When Miss Hyacinth Smudgeson had packed her bags and left the sorrows of her lonely life behind her, she had never expected to end up in such an alien environment. She would never be in danger of mistaking her new home for England's green and pleasant land. But still, she was sure that even in this seemingly unwelcoming and blisteringly lot place there must be people in need of a good traditional cup of tea and a scone. And perhaps in the bustle of the archeological dig she would find sufficient diversion to help her forget the heartless way her betrothed had betrayed her.
With determination, Hyacinth strode forth towards the tent where she had been told there was a place for her to set up shop, providing refreshments for the workers and people of the camp. What excitement lay ahead, she did not know, but once the kettle was on she knew she would feel more at home.
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Miss you, Erin.
Posts: 14382 | From: Under the duvet | Registered: Apr 2002
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la vie en rouge
Parisienne
# 10688
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Posted
Fourteen players now:
Hart
El Greco
CuppaT
Ariston Astuanax
Herrick
Dafyd
Eliab
fletcher christian
Wet Kipper
Imaginary Friend
Banner Lady
Autenrieth Road
Sylvander
Smudgie (so glad we're going to be able to get a good cup of tea out here in the desert)
Anyone else want to slip in under the wire before we start?
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Rent my holiday home in the South of France
Posts: 3696 | Registered: Nov 2005
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Wet Kipper
Circus Runaway
# 1654
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Posted
with the hours of the strongest sun now over, Tavish stepped out frmo under the shelter of the awning in front of his tent.
This place was getting busier by the minute, full of helpers and scroungers in equal measure, he'd wager.
He went for a look around to see who was who and what was what. He didn't like the look of those camels, though. And he'd heard there might actually be a chance of a good cuppa somewhere.
[ 15. October 2010, 15:19: Message edited by: Wet Kipper ]
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- insert randomly chosen, potentially Deep and Meaningful™ song lyrics here -
Posts: 9841 | From: further up the Hill | Registered: Nov 2001
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Imaginary Friend
Real to you
# 186
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Posted
Professor Montgomery Llewellyn Stewart McBride had arrived back at the camp about 12 hours earlier. His own excavation (located approximately 9 miles south-west of Lord Whisker's dig) had so far yielded nothing but a few broken pots, the odd camel bone and some human remains which looked worrying recent in origin. On his arrival back at the camp he had been dismayed to hear of his rival's success. The tomb of Pharaoh Senkhet III! It was a miracle. A blinding, damnable, irritating miracle. Of course, the professor's opinion of Lord Whiskers was low (who calls themselves after a brand of cat food anyways, even if the feline was a sacred animal to the Egyptians) but this really took the biscuit! How could such a fool be so lucky?
As Professor McBride paced up and down inside his tent he could barely contain his rage. Now he had a decision to make: continue with his own excavation in the hope that something will turn up, of swallow his pride and ingratiate himself with the idiot who stumbled upon this treasure trove of archaeological action in the hope that he might be able to wangle his way into the exploration party. "Somebody with a brain has to be there," he fumed to himself, "or those idiots will ruin the whole thing. But how to do it?"
It was late that night before McBride was able to sleep, but by the time he started to drift off, the beginnings of a plan was starting to become clear...
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"We had a good team on paper. Unfortunately, the game was played on grass."
Brian Clough
Posts: 9455 | From: Left a bit... Right a bit... | Registered: May 2001
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la vie en rouge
Parisienne
# 10688
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Posted
You should all have your PMs by now – let me know if any problems. As usual the roles have been distributed at random by Mr. Excel.
Any of the following may be in play (I shan’t tell you how many of each):
The Guardians of Senkhet are the mafia. They can kill one person overnight.
The masons can be assured of each other’s innocence. However they may not communicate with each other except on the thread (i.e. no PMs).
The doctor may protect one person from assassination overnight. Please note that a doctor may not protect him or herself.
Hercule Poirot (no doubt very cunningly disguised here at Camp Sarastro ) is the detective and may investigate one person each night.
The vigilante may kill one person overnight on the days on which no one is lynched (and those days only). For clarity, the vigilante may take a pop at whoever s/he likes –it doesn’t have to be a player who was nominated for lynching.
The miller is innocent, but looks guilty when investigated by the detective. This is a bit of a bugger for the person in question (sorry ‘bout that).
The defector investigates one person per night. If that person turns out to be one of the Guardians of Senkhet, the defector has the option of joining them (but is not obliged to do so).
If the veteran is murdered, s/he kills his/her attacker (to be clear – both the murderer and the veteran will be killed).
Citizens are everyone else.
It would help me if the Guardians of Senkhet could please choose a leader so that there’s just one central person for me to communicate with. Let me know who the chief conspirator is – thanks.
Please note that only the mafia are allowed to communicate with each other behind the scenes. Obviously if the rest of you want to send PMs/emails/carrier pigeons, there’s nothing I can do to stop you, but it’s not the best way to play the game, and in any case there’s no way of knowing that any information you receive by PM is actually true.
Rules for this round – please read carefully:
Each day begins either when someone posts a death scene, or when I announce that no one has been murdered. Following that, there is a round of accusations – nominations and defence will run simultaneously and probably last about 48 hours, or until I make a completely undemocratic unilateral decision that it’s over ![[Razz]](tongue.gif) . There is no limit to the number of nominations each day, but no player may make more than one nomination per round, and nominations cannot be withdrawn once made.
You are not obliged to defend yourself if accused, but it might be best. I will not be giving notice of “lynch or lose” moments.
Following that, there will be a vote. Any player who gets 51% or more (i.e. absolute majority) of the vote is lynched. Voting is compulsory for all players . (For this reason, please let me know ASAP if you unexpectedly have to go off-line so the game doesn’t get held up too much).
After that, night falls, those of you who have night actions tell me what they are, and the rest of you get a good night’s sleep. No posting to the thread during the night phase please.
As usual, a bit of haunting is ok, but séances and the like are not allowed (even if consulting with the dead might be quite appropriate here in the Valley of the Kings). Also no revealing of information in death scenes. If you are among the unlucky ones who don’t survive the duration, whatever you know will have to go with you to the grave, I’m afraid.
And with that, the sun comes up over Camp Sarastro…
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Rent my holiday home in the South of France
Posts: 3696 | Registered: Nov 2005
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la vie en rouge
Parisienne
# 10688
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Posted
It is almost eight in the morning, and strangely, Lord Whisker has not yet awaked. Following his feverish excitement yesterday, his assistants were sure he would be up before dawn. Finally one of them goes to check on him and find out the plans for the day’s digging.
A few moments later, a piercing scream rings out across Camp Sarastro. The assistant runs from Lord Whisker’s tent pale and shaking. As the other members of the party look inside his tent to find out the cause of the commotion, they are greeted by a horrifying sight. Lord Whiskers is sitting up on his cot stone dead, an arrow shot expertly into his heart. His face is stuck in an expression somewhere between horror and bewildered incomprehension.
On closer inspection, a note is found attached to the arrow. It reads:
YOU WERE WARNED
ACCURSED BE THE ONE WHO DISTURBS THE SLEEP OF HIS MAJESTY
THE KING SHALL REST IN PEACE
- THE GUARDIANS OF SENKHET
So, who could be responsible for this heinous crime? If you think anyone is looking shifty, feel free to accuse them now.
(As you see, we’re starting with a nomination phase. Whenever we play this game, there seems to be agreement that it sucks a bit to be bumped off before you’ve have chance to play. So I’m letting you all have one go at voting while you’re still alive.)
Since it’s currently the weekend and I understand that it could take some of you a little while to get organised, nominations will remain open until at least Tuesday night my time. Please make your nominations in bold to make sure I don’t miss any of them.
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Rent my holiday home in the South of France
Posts: 3696 | Registered: Nov 2005
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Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153
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Posted
Eli Abrahams rolls his eyes and shrugs at the news of Lord Whisker’s death. He had neither personal dislike for, nor grievance against, the British aristocrat, but neither does he imagine that the deceased would have felt any sorrow had their positions been reversed, and thus feels no impulse to mourn him. The death confirms what Eli had begun to suspect, the Whisker was right about the resting place of the dead king, and for once Eli had been misguided in accepting his usual (high) fee for arranging local supplies, bearers and labourers, rather than providing them at his own expense in expectation of a share in the profits of success. He shrugs again. Such is life, and the money, already resting safely in a Cairo bank, will not be worth any less because of a gamble not taken.
Besides, the line of said bearers and labourers streaming away from the camp in fear, all of them due to be paid by Mr Abrahams in arrears, represents a golden opportunity to renegotiate the position with whoever intends to take charge of the expedition. Eli smiles to himself. The goyim would be surprised if he didn’t. He thinks how the Englishmen would react if, instead, he went to them full of apologies for the desertion of his labourers, and offering to replace them at his own expense – and almost laughs out loud. For a moment, he seriously entertains the idea of doing it – and seeing how they would deal with the overturning of all their preconceptions about a Middle-Eastern Jew. Then he comes to his senses – he had, after all, never met an Englishman who did not deserve to be treated in exactly the way that the English expect foreigners to treat them. The fools never understood that it wasn’t their money that really mattered to Abrahams. Honestly, he already had enough. The money was simply a very convenient, and very enjoyable, way of keeping score.
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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"
Richard Dawkins
Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005
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fletcher christian
Mutinous Seadog
# 13919
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Posted
News travels fast on desert winds and Seth heard early of the death of Lord Whiskers. He knew of the Westerners paranormal tales of disturbed tombs, but this didn't sound too paranormal. He started to wonder at the wisdom of sitting out in the desert with only a few of his camels for protection.
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'God is love insaturable, love impossible to describe'
Staretz Silouan
Posts: 5235 | From: a prefecture | Registered: Jul 2008
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El Greco
Shipmate
# 9313
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Posted
Compassionate and gracious,
slow to anger, abounding in love are thou, oh great Senkhet.
You will not always accuse,
nor will you harbor your anger forever;
you do not treat us as our sins deserve
or repay us according to our iniquities.
For as high as the heavens are above the earth,
so great is your love for those who fear you and their families;
As a father has compassion on his children,
so Senkhet has compassion on those who fear him;
For he knows how we are formed,
he remembers that we are his servants.
Andrew was finishing his morning prayers to his Protector-God, when he heard people screaming. Calm, he went to see what happened, and came back in his prayer room horrified. His father, the great Egyptologist Lord Whiskers had been murdered.
Quickly, he grabbed a piece of paper and wrote a few lines. He sealed the paper with wax, and wrote at the front: "IN CASE OF VIOLENT DEATH. TO BE READ THREE DAYS AFTER I GET MURDERED. ANDREW WHISKERS, SERVANT OF THE OLD GODS"
He hid the paper in a safe place.
Oh great Senkhet,
accept in your bosom my father
the lover of Egypt
Regenerate him
and guide him in the life after this life...
Andrew was chanting the ancient prayers for the passage to the world beyond. He performed the rites with great diligence, and he put his faith in the Gods that his father, though ignorant of the spiritual world, would be guided through the Great Process with success.
If his suspicions were to be true, then his own life was in serious danger. But he knew his life was worth nothing. So he didn't ask for the great God Suv to protect him from violent death. He believed the God-Bird had better fly fast so that he could protect them that mattered the most.
If I don't die, he thought, I will be able to put foot on the marvelous and sacred sanctuary, and I will call upon Him Who Cannot be Named from the holy ground my father was about to discover. And if I die, I will speak from the world of the Dead, and I will let the entire Egypt know about the sinister money-hangry people that have nothing to do with the Old Ways, about them who I suspect murdered my father, blaspheming Great and Peaceful Senkhet in the process.
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Ξέρω εγώ κάτι που μπορούσε, Καίσαρ, να σας σώσει.
Posts: 11285 | Registered: Apr 2005
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Dafyd
Shipmate
# 5549
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Posted
Dai Mortal had known it was going to happen. He'd warned them. He'd told people (although the bartender was the only person who hadn't been able to back slowly away). The English Lord was dead. And, though Dai hadn't seen the arrow, he just knew that it must be an arrow Of No Human Shape.
This was only going to lead to tentacles. Tentacles and thousands of little black spiders...
He went back into the bar to get a drink.
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we remain, thanks to original sin, much in love with talking about, rather than with, one another. Rowan Williams
Posts: 10567 | From: Edinburgh | Registered: Feb 2004
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Sylvander
Shipmate
# 12857
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Posted
Arsene Beauregard awoke from a nightmare. He was in a world where the keyboard was all muddled. It was Bretonic. Unfortunately Arsene did not even know what a keyboard was.
Alas he awoke from one nightmare into another. One of the silly Englishmen had managed to get himself murdered.
Arsene decided the most important was to get properly shaved and dressed.
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A martyr is someone living with a saint.
2509
Posts: 1589 | From: Berlin | Registered: Jul 2007
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Adam.
Like as the
# 4991
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Posted
Haji could see that these foreigners were a very violent people. First that raid on the markets that he knew was due to them, and now they start knocking each other off. He was sure that something had to be done, one of them had to be brought to justice... but he didn't know who. He would meditate until feeling more sure of himself before deciding on a path forward.
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Ave Crux, Spes Unica!
Preaching blog
Posts: 8164 | From: Notre Dame, IN | Registered: Sep 2003
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Banner Lady
Ship's Ensign
# 10505
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Posted
Lady Bernardine was not given to histrionics. But the news that one of her fellow nobility had been foully done away with saw her standing white faced at the entrance of her tent with her fulsome power of speech momentarily paralysed.
Lord Archibald dead? How can this be? All around her porters were running, snatching up what they could before fleeing the site and wailing about curses and avenging spirits.
Above all the commotion one voice could be heard intoning ancient prayers. She hastily crossed herself and strode across to the dining marquee where a most ingenius hot tea stand had appeared. She knew without a doubt that this was where her countrymen would be congregating at a time like this.
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Women in the church are not a problem to be solved, but a mystery to be enjoyed.
Posts: 7080 | From: Canberra Australia | Registered: Oct 2005
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Wet Kipper
Circus Runaway
# 1654
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Posted
"Arse" shouted Tavish, at himself
Barely a week into what he had thought was going to be well rewarded babysitting, and he'd already let his guard down enough that Archie was deid.
Perhaps his old man would be happy if Tavish looked after the bairn now instead.
In fact, from murmurs he had heard around the camp, perhaps the wee whisker was worth keeping an eye on, for Tavish's own safety
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- insert randomly chosen, potentially Deep and Meaningful™ song lyrics here -
Posts: 9841 | From: further up the Hill | Registered: Nov 2001
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Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153
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Posted
the following is available at a very modest price:
Eli Abrahams’ Guidance Notes for Surviving Attacks by Murderous Cultists
(50 piastre: 5millieme refund available on certification of premature death*)
1. Careless talk saves lives.
We’ll never spot the Cultists if everyone is afraid to talk. We want dialogue, debate, analysis, reasons, and as much of it as possible. Never discourage verbosity. Never suggest that someone is talking too much. We want the Cultists to have to talk and analyse and argue. If they can blend in with silence, they will. We must make silence suspicious and unusual.
2. Don’t take it personally.
The very worst thing an innocent person can do is to counter-accuse someone who suspects them without good reasons. All that tells us is that you find it annoying to be at risk of being unjustly lynched. Trust me, we’d already worked that out. Don’t be afraid to accuse your accuse if you have good reason, but make sure you set out a clear case. People will be falsely accused. Mistakes are inevitable. Don’t take it personally.
3. Be alert. (Camp Sarastro, as your English humour charmingly puts it, has a requirement for lerts)
We’ll spot the Cultists best when their interests diverge from ours. When they do something irrational, foolish and inexplicable on any hypothesis but guilt, we’ll have them. Of course, this presupposes that it isn’t just a simple innocent being thoughtless. So don’t be thoughtless. Consider your actions carefully, Otherwise, you’ll get lynched for making a silly mistake, and it’ll be your own fault, but that won’t make the rest of us feel a great deal better.
4. Make investigation pay.
If you’re an investigative type, you’ll probably feel tempted to check out the most vocal and controversial of the camp denizens. Don’t. Controversies tend to resolve themselves over time. Loud-mouthed criminals give themselves away. Instead, check out the people you have no idea about at all. The aim is to maximise what you know. Going from ‘no idea’ to ‘full facts’ tells you more than going from suspicion to certainty.
And don’t forget that clearing the innocent is as valuable as convicting the guilty. You won’t want to stick your neck out to say that someone is guiltless, of course, but make sure you record your results in some way, and in a way that (when you are dead and we are looking back on all that you’ve said to find clues) we will be able to tell, with hindsight, what was certain knowledge and what was your personal opinion.
5. A free win to one lucky participant.
If you are lucky enough to be on the verge of Cult membership (I’m talking to you, Mr Defector), then tell us now. Seriously. The Cultists won’t kill you – because you are a potential asset and anyway they’d rather try for a doctor or detective. And we won’t either, because until you actually switch, you’re one of us. And then you, lucky turncoat that you are, get to sit back, watch the contest, and join the winning side at the end. Before long, you’ll have all the evidence needed to swing the endgame in our favour (if you stay loyal), or you jump ship. No one will touch you because you might get to be kingmaker.
All you need to know to survive. Detailed tactical consultations available on request.
Eli Abrahams
*Claims will be met only if presented in person
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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"
Richard Dawkins
Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005
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Eliab
Shipmate
# 9153
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Posted
The following is available at a very modest price:
Eli Abrahams’ Guidance Notes for Surviving Attacks by Murderous Cultists
New Edition! This one not type-set by hitting a typewriter with a camel's arse!
(55 piastre: 5millieme refund available on certification of premature death*)
1. Careless talk saves lives.
We’ll never spot the Cultists if everyone is afraid to talk. We want dialogue, debate, analysis, reasons, and as much of it as possible. Never discourage verbosity. Never suggest that someone is talking too much. We want the Cultists to have to talk and analyse and argue. If they can blend in with silence, they will. We must make silence suspicious and unusual.
2. Don’t take it personally.
The very worst thing an innocent person can do is to counter-accuse someone who suspects them without good reasons. All that tells us is that you find it annoying to be at risk of being unjustly lynched. Trust me, we’d already worked that out. Don’t be afraid to accuse your accuse if you have good reason, but make sure you set out a clear case. People will be falsely accused. Mistakes are inevitable. Don’t take it personally.
3. Be alert. (Camp Sarastro, as your English humour charmingly puts it, has a requirement for lerts)
We’ll spot the Cultists best when their interests diverge from ours. When they do something irrational, foolish and inexplicable on any hypothesis but guilt, we’ll have them. Of course, this presupposes that it isn’t just a simple innocent being thoughtless. So don’t be thoughtless. Consider your actions carefully, Otherwise, you’ll get lynched for making a silly mistake, and it’ll be your own fault, but that won’t make the rest of us feel a great deal better.
4. Make investigation pay.
If you’re an investigative type, you’ll probably feel tempted to check out the most vocal and controversial of the camp denizens. Don’t. Controversies tend to resolve themselves over time. Loud-mouthed criminals give themselves away. Instead, check out the people you have no idea about at all. The aim is to maximise what you know. Going from ‘no idea’ to ‘full facts’ tells you more than going from suspicion to certainty.
And don’t forget that clearing the innocent is as valuable as convicting the guilty. You won’t want to stick your neck out to say that someone is guiltless, of course, but make sure you record your results in some way, and in a way that (when you are dead and we are looking back on all that you’ve said to find clues) we will be able to tell, with hindsight, what was certain knowledge and what was your personal opinion.
5. A free win to one lucky participant.
If you are lucky enough to be on the verge of Cult membership (I’m talking to you, Mr Defector), then tell us now. Seriously. The Cultists won’t kill you – because you are a potential asset and anyway they’d rather try for a doctor or detective. And we won’t either, because until you actually switch, you’re one of us. And then you, lucky turncoat that you are, get to sit back, watch the contest, and join the winning side at the end. Before long, you’ll have all the evidence needed to swing the endgame in our favour (if you stay loyal), or you jump ship. No one will touch you because you might get to be kingmaker.
All you need to know to survive. Detailed tactical consultations available on request.
Eli Abrahams
*Claims will be met only if presented in person
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"Perhaps there is poetic beauty in the abstract ideas of justice or fairness, but I doubt if many lawyers are moved by it"
Richard Dawkins
Posts: 4619 | From: Hampton, Middlesex, UK | Registered: Mar 2005
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Ariston
Insane Unicorn
# 10894
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Posted
Lt. Madoc had a look at a copy of the "guide" one of his men had purchased. Whoever this Abrahams character was, he certainly had both good business sense and a sense of humor; whether circulating his advice was a good idea, though, was another matter. There's always a risk in circulating "how to" guides too widely, as your enemy may use it to his own advantage; then again, Mr. Abrahams didn't seem to be concerned about who lived or died, so much as who paid up front.
Owain wondered if he might convince him to have a word with the captain. Things might be run so much more efficiently with Eli in charge . . .
The lieutenant set down the pamphlet and tried to get some rest amongst all the commotion. Ever since Lord Whiskers had been murdered, the guard detail posted at the camp had been increased; even junior officers were not exempt from nighttime watch duty. Plus, dead bodies are dead bodies. Owain had seen enough to be more interested in preventing new ones than gawking at the old.
[ 17. October 2010, 22:02: Message edited by: AristonAstuanax ]
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“Therefore, let it be explained that nowhere are the proprieties quite so strictly enforced as in men’s colleges that invite young women guests, especially over-night visitors in the fraternity houses.” Emily Post, 1937.
Posts: 6849 | From: The People's Republic of Balcones | Registered: Jan 2006
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Autenrieth Road
Shipmate
# 10509
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Posted
Rose Autenrieth had slept late, not being awakened by Lord Whiskers' usual bellowing for hot water and his shaving kit. When she finally awoke and finished getting washed and dressed, the sun was high over the yardarm. (The English members of the expedition had whimsically mounted one near where the desert ships were tethered.). Eschewing drink, she went in search of a good hot cuppa. As she made her way to the teastand that had materialized in the center of the camp, she noticed that everyone was in commotion and muttering "Murder!"
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Truth
Posts: 9559 | From: starlight | Registered: Oct 2005
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