OCC: I have stoped ding the sss thing. read over some of my post... its pretty enoying i apologize for any inconvenience. also sorry for not responding my internet was down for a while there. Now on to the game
Adrain looked round the table at those who were left.
" it is unfortunate that we have lost so many councilers and many without even a chance to speek. I apologize for not speaking up and i thank you Tarbo for wakeing me. now lets get down to business.."
Adrain grabed a nearby torch and put it close to him. His body felt cold
"Telrunya, My reasoning for not thinking that Ostrar (Highborn on Black Dragon) is innocent is this. Are tezentians not suposed to be some of the smartest cultist there are? Are they not suposed to be quick witted and one step ahead of most people? In my opinon he seems to lack these particular qualities. As you have said thoe there are only eight of us left. As you also said if there are 3 enemys among us then the five inocent need to work as a team. This means that if i am wrong and he is a tezentiean then those who are loyal will lose this fight and die. Because of this reason I will support voteing him ONLY if there are 4 votes for him. Now this may work for the tezentians but it also can help those loyal if he is a tzentian. Now on to the subject of those i belived were enemys. To be honest, I though that Kefka was one but with him dead well.... i was obviously wrong. My other suspect is the one called Sleek. My reasoning for this is simple. He has avoided all confrentation from the start. He has constantly tried to worm his way out of the spotlight when it was cast upon him. He became quite the mediator when Belial attacked him and was quick to settle things down. This in my mind is the type of act a tzenchian would be capable of doing and also very good at doing. Also, Sleek, Ostra has not gained my trust. I just think he is too dim-witted to be a tzenchian. It is aproching mid-day. We need to sort things out and get something done here and quickly. As such i will place my vote"
Vote: Sleek
Never underestimate the power of sheer bloody minded spite.
"I’m not going to fight them, you fool. I’m going to kill them.”
-Malus Darkblade
"We shall strike down our foes with sharp steel and cold hearts. The weak die so that the strong prevail and none shall be spared. Then and only then will our enemies know the true meaning of fear."
- Malekith, The Witch King of Naggaroth
“Let me get this straight, your reason for not thinking Ostrar is innocent is because the Tzeentchians are smart and he isn't.”
…
…
“Is anyone else having a problem with this? But let's not dwell this, there is more that needs to be straightened out, aside the contradiction you managed to donate onto us.”
“You claim that I must be a Tzeentchian because I am smart but at the same time you blunder past the fact that Tarbo, Telrunya and you thought Kefka warranted further scrutiny. I will admit I thought the same but let's assume I didn't; how smart is it of me to take out the most likely target for voting? How smart would that be for any infiltrator at all?”
“If I had a say in it I wouldn't waste my time on doing the council's work for itself, I would weed out those who stood a chance of pulling the council into gear like Tarbo, Telrunya or Belial,especially if people would find them trustworthy.”
“On to the next point; you claim I avoided all confrontation? Avoided? Me? Were you even here yesterday? I did speak out against Ostrar, didn't I? I did open this very day by putting my views out on the table and by pointing out who I thought was most likely to be the one we seek – which incidentally was you.
“If I wanted to avoid confrontation I would have done like so many others and dodged the responsibility of rooting out the infiltrators and leave it up to others to carry the burden. So, me trying to avoid the spotlight? Seriously?”
“And of course I didn't attack Belial when he addressed me. Why would I? The man had a point, and so did I. Slapping my vote on him just because he challenged me is not just idiotic, it would be counter-productive at that point.”
“Apparently, you would've preferred to have another stare-down with … what kind of result exactly?”
“No, Adrian, I am not impressed by your reasoning. Not only are you claiming that innocent councillors should be dim-witted and combative without paying heed to results; you are also lying through your teeth.”
“And I think you do so on purpose.”
Vote: Adrian (sassmaw)
Great minds think alike.
So if you want diversity, try morons.
Zarra sat at the council applying make-up to her black eye. She was not in a good mood. Trolls had attacked, she missed her important appointment she spent all night preparing for, she was humiliated infront of the others, and worst of all, she got hit in the face.
Zarra prepared herself to at least look decent for joining the conversation.
"To reply to your mentioning of me, Telrunya. I made my vote yesterday to help the council try and take a step forward, or at least in some general direction of action. Ostrar had votes against him, sure, a random accusation, but his reaction was poor and he didn't help his position or the council when he reacted to voting for Tarbo. Tarbo only had a vote against him because of Ostrars behavior. I was a little confused at the time, both Ostrars behavior and Tarbo's random accusation left them both suspicious." She finished applying her make-up and put her products away before continuing.
"But I finally decided on Ostrar. Tarbo's act may have been random, but at least it was getting us somewhere. If Ostrar had been killed, and turned out to be loyal, then Tarbo would be the first target of suspicion the next day, would you not agree? And if Ostrar had been a Tzeentch traitor, well, a lucky guess on Tarbos part and we would be a step closer to ending this."
"As for this morning, I believe we are back to square one. Kefkas death does not provide much information. Was he a target because he was on the right track? Hard to say, he did not contribute nearly as much as some of the other council members. But he did vote for Ostrar, and Ostrar did react badly to Tarbo's accusation. This leaves me split again. Was Kefka a random target? Or a perfect one to confuse us? Or just an unlucky fellow?"
"Either way, I have not heard enough for me to make a decision. I will not act as rashly as yesterday, and hope we can dig up some more evidence before I make my vote."
Belial was massaging his temples.
"I have a major headache, and I have nothing of interest to add, I fear. I think Sleekis onto something here, and I honestly can't piece together who else to aim for. Of course Zarra (zzug) makes a compelling target for my vote as well, but I have to wonder one thing... Even if those two are guilty, that leaves who? Something to look at now... We should try to move beyond trying to pin one person as a suspect, and instead figure out a possible team of traitors, all at once. For now, though, I place my vote on Adrian."
Tarbo scratched the back of his head. "Ah, well, I suppose Cathel will not be joining us for the day. That throws a spanner in my thoughtworks.
"But Adrain, I must confess you've confounded me with your reasons. Are you suggesting we kill everyone with half a wit? Are you saying that Ostrar lacks that half? Because, perhaps surprisingly, I disagree there. I believe Ostrar is deceptively clever.
"Recall that Ostrar spoke only when the 'spotlight', as you call it, was squarely burning in his eyes. His reaction was immediate and vicious: vote whoever cast the light on him. He was determined to see it to a duel, as if the world were too small for the both of us. And the instant I retracted my vote, he retracted his voice and his statements. We haven't heard of him since. Some might have forgotten he's here with us. But he is.
"Now, we can take your assumption that he's two brain cells short of a pair and did honestly believe that it was a good idea to duke it out with the guy who had the nerve to question him, taking his self-worth to such heights he would rather see us paralysed than functional. That's plausible.
"Or we can take a different angle. What if Ostrar is, in fact, much cleverer than that? What if his blind panic was really an attempt to bully me and others into leaving him alone while he skulks about, always watching but never committing? What if that is why Kefka is dead? What if, perhaps, that is why you defend him with rhyme nor reason?
"That sounds more plausible to me than 'he can't tell his elbow from his lower back, so he can't be our enemy.' And I believe you know it."
Telrunya was leaning back in his chair, his hands folded in front of him.
"You know," he started, "it might be better not to vote this meeting. It is likely that between now and the next meeting we will be missing three people, assuming the infiltrators manage to take down one of us, and Cathel and Ostrar (Highborn on Black Dragon) won't show up. That's five of us left.
"If the infiltrators are with three and we take only one down, then we don't have a majority anymore. Game over.
"If they are with two, then voting would put us in a worse position then not voting. Regardless of whether we actually take one out. If we do, then we face one hidden in a group of four. If we don't, then we lose."
Shaking his head, Telrunya adds "I would rather face two in a group of five.
"So, the only scenario in which it would be beneficial for me to vote Adrain (sassmaw) would be if there were indeed three infiltrators and at least two of Cathel-Ostrar-Adrain would be among them. But either we got the complete package here, or we are still one loyal vote short in order to remove an infiltrator. Thus the only scenario in which I should logically vote, I would need the help of an infiltrator. Or more people showing up."
With this though, Telrunya chuckles.
"Neither scenario is realistic, is it? I think I'll put my eggs in the two-infiltrators-basket. Meaning I believe it is better that I don't vote for Adrain until more people show up."
Belial looked at Telrunya.
"I am not sure if I get this... You are saying that you would rather not vote, and let them take on more of us? I don't really see the point here... Yes, we can vote ourselves into defeat, but not doing anything isn't excactly winning either."
The council chamber was eerily quiet at times, no one seeming to want to talk. When they did speak up many stressed their lack of clues or insights while others tried to spur them on and failed. One even claimed that utter inactivity was the most logical course, in spite of all common wisdom and sense. At any rate nothing had been achieved today.
Unlike the council member's Mila sat unharmed by the fracas in the corridors, it would never do for one of the darling's of Slaanesh to get her hands dirty, not unless they were ordered to. But for all that she was unharmed in the flesh the threat of the Tzeentchen's dragged at Mila's soul. Though in the beginning she had held out hope, hope that they might use this invasion of their home as an opportunity to hunt down the heathens and put them to the sword that hope was fading swiftly.
All was not yet lost, but the situation was grim. With the deaths of so many councillors, mostly by their own hand, the balance of the council must surely be swinging in favour of the infiltrators. Perhaps those remaining could work their way through the web of deceit woven all around by the servants of fate, but there was no more room for error, or for inertia.
They had been arguing for hours, but now debate had petered out and all had been silent for a while. Everyone was tired, those nursing wounds all the more so. There had been too little time to sleep, too little time to think and too few elves willing to take destiny by the horns and get something done.
Realising that nothing more would be achieved this day Mila shook her head sadly.
"I think we had better call it a night gentlemen, ladies. Truly I hope that I will be able to greet you all in the morning. We stand on a knife edge and if we do not get answers soon I shall have to revert to more brutal tactics than we have thus far employed and simply have you all executed, the energetic along with the lethargic. I hope it does not come to that, truly I don't, for the cult can ill afford to lose such fine elves as you; but the threat posed by these magicians lurking amongst us, in this very room, is a cancer that may spread from this cell to infect the whole body of the cult."
Getting to her feet Mila pushed her chair back. Smoothing the front of her robe she continued
"Get some rest, and get thinking. We don't have long left and if we are to survive we must not only be decisive, we must be correct." Summoning her trail of servants with a gesture the priestess retired to her rooms, there to worry and try to part the veil of mystery herself. This was not over yet, but things were getting desperate for the council.
It is now night, day will resume at the latest at 12midnight on the 15th of Feb. Not that there is any change but for the sake of form the council stands thus...
Tarbo : Voted Sassmaw Telrunya: Belial: Voted Sassmaw SleekDD: Voted Sassmaw Zzug: Sassmaw: Voted SleekDD Highborn on black dragon: Cathal: Draknir: Hacked to death (inactivity) day one- innocent (at least of this crime) Mostly Harmless: Hacked to death (inactivity) day one –innocent (not a Tzeentchen at any rate,) Lord Anubis: Hacked to death (inactivity) day one –innocent (as innocent as a Slaaneshi cultist can be) Kefka: Crushed by a troll night one.
With eight players five is a majority, no majority was reached.
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.
Arch Deacon of the RPG forum Gentleman of Moderation
The council was over, finally. Ostrar pulled himself out of his seat barely repressing a grateful sigh. What a load of useless gibbering fools the others were, why speak out and get yourself noticed, it only led to the chop. Several had died over these last few days and after his skilful defence on the first the others hadn't dared come after him again. No he would live through this, damn the rest of them, he was going to get through.
Could even mean promotion, when all this is over. Dead men's boots...
For now though ambition could be laid aside in favour of a little fun, and then a decent night’s sleep. As he began to walk down the sumptuously decorated corridors he gritted his teeth as he was reminded of a gash to his ankle he had taken during the fighting the night before. The clumsy fool who had done the deed was now dead of course, though the idiot's stammering had been amusing. So he had been thrown atop him by a troll, what matter! The guard had still injured one of the Dark Prince's favourites.
Tonight though he had more delicate amusements in mind. The walk back to his room was not long and unlike that of Kefka the night before it passed without incident. Unlocking the heavy oak panelled door, a wonderful piece carved with tiny sprites kicking and fussing all over, he went inside.
Ostrar's private quarters were not as large as some, he was a relatively junior cultist amongst the echelons of this exclusive cell having served a mere twenty years. None the less the rooms were breathtaking; in their costliness, in their beauty and in their cruelty. Sadism was ever the bread and butter of Slaaneshi playtime and Ostrar still had a long way to go before he tired of its physical forms.
The entrance hall, hung with tapestries in emerald and gold, branched off into several different rooms, it was to the end most that he walked. Unlocking yet another door (you could never be too careful with the things you cared about) he emerged into the room he was most comfortable in.
That was not to say that it was all that comforting, the walls, even the ceiling, were decorated by a wonderful mosaic. In detail as perfect as the colours were riotous it depicted the fate of a family of wood cutters deep in the black forest. The son had found one day a bee's nest brimming with honey, yet without any bees. Naturally the boy had cut it down and taken it back to his family who were delighted. The mosaic showed a later scene, one where the bees found their honey, and those who had stolen it.
It had been his favourite fairly story as a child and had cost a lord's ransom to have done. Now though Ostrar was not interested in art, the object of his desire hung suspended from the ceiling. Entangled in an intricate web of rope, there hung a young maid (well, she had certainly been a few days ago when he bought her) not past her century. She was a picture, taken on a raid from Ulthuan the slaver had told him, daughter of a prince apparently (though Ostrar had his doubts on that score, if every pretty slave girl sold as 'princess Ariana' had royal blood in her veins there would have to be more princes in Ulthuan than paupers.)
No matter, her parentage mattered not, what mattered was the terrified gleam in her eyes as she saw him enter the room and the soft gleam of terror sweat forming on her naked limbs. She had screamed when he first got her, but it annoyed the neighbours, so he had gagged her.
Striding over to one wall, piled high with stacks of implements ranging from crude whips to things so strange it would have taken a good five minutes to explain how to use them, Ostrar picked out a simple slender goad. Lifting the gilded steel rod, cruelly barbed at the head, he advanced on his pretty little darling.
Jabbing her in the side he was rewarded with a muffled cry,
"Not very imaginative," The torturer at play whirled about. Laying curled up in mid air was a small black and white cat, its tail waving idly. As was his habit Ostrar said nothing
"I mean she didn't even scream. Really what on earth is the point of dedicating yourself to this sordid little cult if you can't even get a decent scream out of a slave, and one that's tied up to boot!"
Ostrar didn't take slurs like that from anyone, not even talking cats
"Oh she screams, she screams so loud I had to put a muzzle on her!" he said a tad boastfully. The cat yawned
"Really. Why don't you show me?" Now how could he refuse a challenge like that? walking over to where the girl hung he ripped the silken rag out of her mouth. Already tears were pouring down her face in anticipation of horrors to come and in memory of horrors past.
Taking a step back the cultist lashed out, slicing the barbs through the tender flesh of her stomach. Right enough the girl screamed and as she cried out in a sharp renewal of agony a small object came hurtling out of her mouth; it was buzzing. Startled Ostrar took a step back and looked at the bee as it meandered round the room.
"Is that all you’ve got, one little yelp?" the cat did not seem to mind the bee, goaded on by its words Ostrar once more raised his goad of a more conventional sort and brought it down upon the hapless maiden's back.
Then she howled, and as she did another black and yellow form popped out, and then another, and another till the trickle became a flood.
"Interesting," the cat mused. Now Ostrar realised what he should have done several minutes ago, floating, talking cats had no place in his home, they only spelled trouble.
Trouble was confirmed as one bee, perhaps the very first, swung down in a lazy loop and landed on his arm. Not waiting so much as a second it plunged it's stinger down. The critter died instantly under Ostrar's open palm, but as the swarm continued to spill from this plaything's mouth he began to cotton on to his somewhat precarious situation, he ran. Rushing out of the door he sprinted down the corridor at a speed he never knew he possessed. Within a few strides he was at the front door, but now the swarm was giving chase. With a cry he hurled himself out of his quarters and into the main corridor, slamming it shut behind him.
That should hold them, he thought, panting. There is no way bugs are getting through that.
He was right of course, but that was supposing that they had any need to get through the door. Beyond the portal the buzzing sound was closer to a roar, one of impotent rage, or so Ostrar liked to imagine. Alert now he was quick to notice one of the many thousands of carven pixies which made up the door suddenly scratch its head. He would have put it down to hallucination, it had been a stressful day after all, but though it was the first it was not the last. Soon the whole dark mass of them were twitching and stretching with newfound life.
For several seconds Ostrar simply stood there, transfixed, then the full implications of what was happening hit home. Letting out a scream to dwarf any ever torn from the lips of his toys the cultist took to his heels once again.
"HELP!" he shrieked, hammering down the corridor
"HELP!" and not a moment too soon, the muffled buzzing roar was muffled no longer as with a chattering cackle of glee the sprites fluttered and bounded out of their wooden forms and into glorious life.
There were not many out and about at this time, but Cathal was a slow walker and his rooms were close to those of Ostrar. As he heard the pitiful screeching he halted in his tracks. Unlike the boy Cathal was a warrior and had the scars to prove it. Drawing his elegant blade he ran to aid his fellow cultist.
Ostrar's limp was forgotten in the face of the swarm and had he been set down at a foot race at that moment there would have been few to match him. But fast as the elf was the winged swarm was faster. Even as Cathal rounded the corridor ahead they were closing in. Racing past the astounded Cathal Ostrar continued, not looking back as the older elf met the swarm head on.
Perhaps he killed a few as he slashed out with his blade, but it was a drop in the ocean. Like locusts on a cornfield the critters bit and stung. With a final cry of ecstatic pain Cathal fell to his knees. Clinging to his face, to his ears, to his arms the sprites of animated wood fell still again, turning back into oak the spread of wood did not stop once they bodies were solid. It spread, covering the skin of the warrior, every scar, every bite, and every puckered boil.
Though he had given his life Cathal slowed the swarm merely for an instant, then it was back onto its prey. Catching Ostrar just at the top of a grand flight of stairs leading down onto a more densely inhabited floor the swarm engulfed him. There was no dignity in this, nor honour, there could not be in such an end. Cathal had been a distraction, Ostrar was the target and it seemed that the bugs would not be content until each and every one had had its turn to bite or sting.
Under that overwhelming hoard Ostrar could no longer be seen, but before long his screams ended and the spread of dark brown wood began. It started with the creatures directly touching his skin, then spread to the elf. After he was a statue of solid oak the swarm began to die, clattering to the ground. Their purpose done they joined the pixies in oaken longevity.
_______________________________________________________________________
Mila awoke feeling refreshed, for once she had managed a full night's rest. Getting up she called to her slaves to dress her. Amongst her usual maids Katala entered the room. Picking up a silken shift she said
"Something happened in the night mistress." Mila's heart sank, she had dared to hope for a reprieve.
"What?"
"We are not sure, no one saw it happen, but Cathal and Ostrar are both dead."
"Both of them?" Mila asked, to be sure she had given them back their lives after their lack of forthright conversation, but to lose two in one night to the fiends...
"How did they die?"
"They were turned to wood by bee’s mistress." as a robe was belted into place about her Mila turned
"They were what!"
_______________________________________________________________________
Sitting in the council chamber everyone could plainly see just who was no longer around, few indeed of the council were left, but all was not yet lost. Set at their places were the statues of Cathal and Ostrar; a gruesome accompaniment to the crystal form of Aleash.
"We are running short of time and bodies people. It is time to act, pull your selves together!" With that instruction Mila took her place at the head of the table.
It is now day, night will end (unless there is a consensus prior to it) at 12 midnight 19th of Feb. The council stands thus.
Tarbo : Telrunya: Belial: SleekDD: Zzug: Sassmaw: Highborn on black dragon:Turned to wood by a swarm of bees, night two- innocent (ish) Cathal: Turned to wood by a swarm of bees, night two- innocent (well mostly) Draknir: Hacked to death (inactivity) day one- innocent (at least of this crime) Mostly Harmless: Hacked to death (inactivity) day one –innocent (not a Tzeentchen at any rate,) Lord Anubis: Hacked to death (inactivity) day one –innocent (as innocent as a Slaaneshi cultist can be) Kefka: Crushed by a troll night one.
With six players remaining three is a majority (ok so it should be four but I feel a little sorry for you guys)
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.
Arch Deacon of the RPG forum Gentleman of Moderation
Sleek skips his eyes left and right, sizing up the few councillors remaining.
Only six left.
“Right,” he says as he taps the tips of his fingers together. “We've spent two days milling about without any result. I understand people don't feel willing to speak up; after all, we don't have all that much more to go on and there are still those among us who deem any form of coherent thought as suspicious.”
“Still, if we want to survive this, we will need to do something – anything. Passing our time in silence and admitting we don't know what to do isn't going to save us,” Sleek says. “We are with our backs to the wall, ladies and gentlemen. If we fail now, we will all fall without exception.”
“As before I will lay out my thoughts on the matter and I invite you all to pitch in,” Sleek announces. “I suggest we both try to find the culprits but also to point out those aspects we can find in the defence of others. After all, if we can narrow the search, we're more likely to strike true.”
“First of all, I still believe Belial to be innocent, given his conduct on the first day. He tried to get things rolling, taking action when time was becoming an issue. If he were an assassin, he was working against himself because he was drawing attention, something an assassin would avoid as much as possible.”
“Second is Telrunya. He as well pushed for action on the first day, beseeching others to take action as well. Again, not a very prevalent trait for an infiltrator. In addition to this, he tries to push the council forward by putting forth his thoughts and prods others into revealing there motives.
“What does puzzle me is how he went from saying yesterday is crucial to the point where he advises us not to act. Still, an infiltrator, I believe, would simply have kept his peace. But I'd like to hear more on that anyway, especially since it made us all take a risk. What if there were three infiltrators?”
“Third on my list is Tarbo. He has been pushing the council forward as well and often added his vote to where his thoughts were. He got the ball rolling by placing the first vote on a silent councillor – who incidentally squealed like there was no tomorrow until the pressure was released.
I think I may say he has been most constructive for our cause, spurring people into action if not provoking it. But that also leaves me with a lingering question: why is he still alive?”
“I know it may sound odd but what infiltrator would not see Tarbo as one of – if not the most important threat?
“Still, I can find little else to hold against him other than the fact he is still breathing.”
“Now, excluding myself for the moment, that leaves us with two councillors left. Oddly enough, we are also looking for two infiltrators and we can build a case against both of them.”
“You all know my position towards Adrian. He has acted only once and that was when the pressure on himself was increased, and he acted in lashing out. But more importantly, he actively blocked the council on the first day by his open refusal to take a stance. In fact, he was so convinced of Ostrar's innocence that he'd rather not act at all than place a vote.”
“I find that very peculiar. How does one know someone else is innocent on the very first day? It leads me to believe he knows something he's not supposed to know if he truly is innocent. If you're innocent, you don't know for sure who's on your team and who isn't. Even at the best of times, you're making guesses; educated guesses but guesses nonetheless.”
“But not Adrian. He was sure.”
“The second and last suspect is Zarra. She has taken what Telrunya called the 'cheap option', making a call against Ostrar without actually committing herself to that choice. That could be a good way to move things along since you're not actively blocking the council and you can prey on the weaker ones of the council, seeing them voted off. “
“The idea would be to act enough not to be suspected and yet keep a low profile in an effort to keep out of the spotlight. One point to indicate this is her failure to do anything after Telrunya addressed her about her behaviour and motives on the first day. It became eerily quiet indeed.”
Great minds think alike.
So if you want diversity, try morons.
"And then her hair! Ghastly, the whole thing. I couldn't set my mind straight for the entire event, so very gauche of her."
Tarbo wasn't speaking --or listening, for that matter-- and simply hummed in what passed for summary agreement. With three needles held firmly between his lips, he measured his client's arms while she held them stretched.
"Why can't people learn to match colours? Everyone knows purple and bordeaux don't really mix; had she done it last year, she'd have been trendy and original, but now she's just a poser!"
Tarbo flipped his measure over his shoulder and moved to her back, going on one knee to gauge the waistline. He fleetingly wondered whether strangling her would reflect poorly on his manners.
"Wait." Although already not making a sound, Tarbo held. "Do you hear that?"
"...hhhhHHEEEELP!" As quickly as the sound had approached the door, traced by an astounding footwork, it trailed off to the far side of the corridor, moving away at breakneck speed. A loud buzz followed closely.
Silence fell.
"I must say, you have very peculiar neighbours to be up this time of night."
°°°
Tarbo looked somewhat miffed when entering the gathering room. He was usually one of the first on the ground, but he had no-one to blame but himself. He straightened his back a symbolic little, and breathed deeply through his nose while hearing Sleek's exposition.
"I can't really respond to your query on why I'm still alive. It is a question I could equally well ask you or Belial or Telrunya. You've had some friction with Belial on the first day, so an entrepreneurial infiltrator might leave you alive, hope to cause a wave and vote you.
"All I can say is that either the infiltrators are too frightened to kill any of us --fearing it will implicate them-- or that they are comfortable leaving us be, which is something of a sobering thought.
"I agree with your view on Belial. Though I'll certainly grant him the intelligence to befuddle us thus, he would have had a much easier time sticking to the background. He's pretty much at the bottom of my list.
"Sleek, you as well have stuck out your neck with statements that others have taken offense to but seem in our best interest. I'm actually a little surprised to see you walk in day after day.
"Telrunya, well, I've disagreed with more than once. I see the logic he wielded yesterday, but I still believe going for the vote on Adrain would have been the smart thing to do.
"Adrain, I can't rightly tell. Part of me suspecting him was built on the assumption he and Ostrar were in cahoots, which they clearly could not have been. But he's still high on my list because, as I outlined earlier, he did start the vote against Sleek, somewhat out of the blue.
"Zarra... Zarra. I've no real sense one way or the other."
He breathed a lungful of cool air and sighed. "Two infiltrators. They picked Kefka the first day --and Ostrar now, but since he hadn't said a word, I'm not sure how useful that knowledge is-- so Kefka's death may be significant. Zarra theorises it might not be. I'm not sure.
"But given our reduced majority, I'll kindly refrain from my interrogation techniques, and not vote yet. After all, if there are two infiltrators, and I miss, all they need to do is hop on and kill us all.
He looked at the clock and pressed his lips. "I'll give it some more thought."
Telrunya was yawning so often that for once his face was not constantly at least partly covered by smoke.
"Sleek. I explained yesterday why I believed voting would actually be taking unnecessary risks. And --if anything-- recent events have proven me correct: both Ostrar and Cathel were innocent. If there were indeed three infiltrators, we would be done for even if we did hit it with Adrain. I feel I cannot be blamed for mispredicting the events of last night inexplicably making us end up with the unlucky number six instead of the five I hoped for, but we still got the better end of the deal.
"But there is one thing you can blame me and that is that yesterday, for the first time, there seemed to be a realistic chance to actually vote someone. If we were wrong, however, it should have spelled the end of the council. We haven't avoided that risk, but now we have more information to take the risk with." Telrunya sighed. "I stand with my decision. I see your point in disagreeing, but I hope you see my point as well. We are --I believe-- fighting on the same side, even though our methods may differ.
"As yesterday, I will share thoughts openly, but we do indeed have little to go on.
"I start with Belial, Sleek, and Tarbo. Perhaps the most valuable members the council has. And it is somewhat bothersome that they are indeed all still around. Perhaps it shows that there is at least one infiltrator hiding in there, or perhaps it shows the infiltrators are sportsmanlike enough to give us a fighting chance. Perhaps both. At any rate, they can't all be infiltrators, so the real culprits must at least have some reason.
"Unfortunately, I have little more to go on than either agreeing or disagreeing with methods. Perhaps first and foremost Belial's attack on Ostrar instead of Adrain on the first day. But I would like to hear from Belial about this before making any decision concerning the loyalty of Belial, Sleek, and Tarbo.
"Leaves me with Zarra and Adrain. I have stated my issues with both of them last time, and not much has really cleared up meanwhile. I do believe Zarra's actions are more the result of paranoia than malevolence. She has taken no hard stands, so we have little to go on but my doubt leans slightly more to innocence than to guilt.
"This leaves me with Adrain. I was indeed bothered by his reluctance to not vote for Ostrar on the first day. He claimed to believe Ostrar's innocence. Many of us did, but few were willing enough to block the council on a crucial point. It made us end up with eight, instead of the preferable seven. The main reason? Not voting for the innocent Ostrar would cement Adrain's innocence. At least, Adrain, this is what you yourself said. But if your priority is to block the council on a crucial day, then I think you have different priorities than the rest of us.
"Now, it leaves me puzzling why you would attack Sleek and take out Kefka at night, but perhaps you are just not the one calling the shots. But your attack against Sleek leaves a lot to the imagination, so I suspect you had a vote ready and tried to back it up with a reasoning instead of the other way around.
"I will follow Tarbo's advice and hold my vote for a little longer, but yes Adrain, you are my preferred target."
Tarbo rolled his eyes to Telrunya, then to Sleek, and then back ahead of him. "Well, this is depressing," he mumbled more than said. "Three people not turning up means three people left for the night. If one of us is an infiltrator, that means we're dead.
"So here's to hoping you two are decent folk. Cheers to you." He raised his glass to Sleek and Telrunya, then to the others, and added, "and here's to excessive, ludicrous but, unfortunately, imaginary violence."
Telrunya's eyes skipped left and right. "Sleek and Tarbo, I would love to discuss the matter with both of you but I fear we are indeed running short on time. I feel I can say the choice for today seems to be between Adrain and Zarra.
"As Sleek mentioned, we should be looking for two infiltrators and we can make a case against both of them. Perhaps they are indeed working together. Zarra changed her behavior yesterday quite drastically when voting for Adrain became a real option. She went from 'having to make a decision' on the first day to 'I want more information' on the second day. She even managed to weasel her way out of the topic entirely on the first day by just keeping her grand silence.
"And I am always suspicious of people who change their behaviors drastically without apparent reason. As I am always suspicious of people who act with more knowledge than they ought to have. Which brings me to Adrain.
"Adrain was so certain on day 1 that Ostrar would be innocent that he refused to vote for him. It did make the situation go from bad to worse. It is easy to believe the real reason for his reluctance to vote was to look innocent by refusing to vote for innocent people."
Telrunya studies his pipe closely and sighs.
"It is indeed a sad state of affairs. We are forced to choose between two people who do not even have the decency to show up today. I've said it before: the council's doom will be it's lethargy.
"But there's three of us, just enough for one vote, however symbolical it shall be. Even if one of us three is an infiltrator, we couldn't even take him down. We have tried to get the council somewhere, closer to a vote, in a better position, more alive with discussion. And it is ironic that the three of us are the only ones left. There is no way out anymore. Tarbo's right: we can only make it if the three of us are loyal, but that is out of our hands. And I don't believe both Zarra and Adrain are guilty.
"Giving away our lives by forfeit. It is something to be ashamed of. But I will use my symbolic right to vote. One time to lash out and hope to strike back. Or die trying. I hope I have your support in this."
Sleek nods in respect at Telrunya. “I suppose that would be an accurate, if gloomy statement and I must admit I was torn between just waiting for Mila to take matters into her own hands or make a symbolic gesture, granted to us with the new almost-but-not-quite majority regulation.”
“As you said, if one of the active councillors is an infiltrator, we will all perish. We can't vote him and that's it. If both the infiltrators fail to show up today, we all get to live.”
“Either way, the game is cancelled on the count of rain it seems.”
“If the outcome would matter, I would advocate going for Adrian instead of Zarra because he is higher on my list of suspects but that discussion has become academic despite Mila's best attempts to let us conduct a proper investigation.”
“So, I will support your vote, if only to get something done today.”
Vote: Zarra (zzug)
Great minds think alike.
So if you want diversity, try morons.
Telrunya nods thoughtfully. "One does best to head your words, Sleek, but the discussion is indeed academic. Only for Adrain, I can make reason for the Kefka kill, but there is not really one action of Zarra's I can find rhyme or reason for. It was a tough decision.
"At least there are two of us who do not believe Adrain and Zarra are working together. So if we do indeed exclude Belial..."
Instead of finishing the sentence, Telrunya turns his eyes toward Tarbo. "And not even enough votes," he murmers to himself.
Tarbo slowly clapped his hands while holding his glass. "Telrunya, your eye is as sharp as your wit. I wish the same could be said for your colleagues who, on all accounts, seem to have drifted off somewhat from their mission. Nevertheless, I am certain some could be worthy opponents, were their minds properly focused on their task.
"You see, gentlemen, with all your wish for proof and longing for evidence to the exclusion of all else, you've paralysed yourself. And council paralysis is exactly what people like myself covet: a quiet, stable, unmoving situation where we can pick our targets without fear of association or incrimination."
Tarbo's grin turned savage. "And despite our deepest protests, you gave us exactly that: silence. But perhaps you already suspected our allegiance, and this was some subconscious desire to spite us. I believe some credit should be had, there.
"In fact, your colleagues should have all the credit," he added smugly when turning his chair to Telrunya, and hid his smirk in his drink. "They've certainly worked harder for my victory than I've ever had to."
Telrunya turns his head from Tarbo to Sleek and back to Tarbo. Without saying a word, he fills his pipe meticulously, lights the green herbs, and closes his eyes while inhaling deeply.
"Even my many years of smoking can't hide the bittersweet taste of irony, from when I first asked for your vote, to this evening. I suppose the adage of keeping one's friends close, but enemies even closer, has become less cliché for one day."
Taking another deep breath, Telrunya stares past the twirling smoke from his pipe, past the table in the center of the chamber, into the very distance.
He finally blows some more smoke out his nose and turns his head halfway to Tarbo. "There wouldn't happen to be an opening, I suppose?"
The council doors slammed open, as the shape of Belial flew through them.
"Huff, huff.... Wheeze.... Di... So... Sorry I'm late... Did I miss anything?"
As Tarbo's understated confession rippled round the room the council was (as usual) lost for words. The quiet conversation of Tarbo, Sleek and Telrunya was disturbed by a crashing thud, swiftly followed by Belial, wheezing and panting after his pell mell gallop to reach the chamber
"Huff, huff.... Wheeze.... Di... So... Sorry I'm late... Did I miss anything?" he gasped, closing the doors behind him. It was Sleek who answered
"Not at all, in fact you are just in time."
"Oh, good." Belial sank into his chair, then in a quizzical tone asked "Just in time for what?"
"The end of life as you know it," Tarbo said, his tone matter of fact with perhaps just a hint of a gloating smile mixed in.
Mila was just as stunned as the rest of them, that two of the most vocal and influential councillors should turn out to be their enemies was an unwelcome surprise to say the least; but now that they had confessed though she could leap into action, after all there were still only two of them and if the council was a shadow of its former numbers there were still guards aplenty within earshot.
"Guards! The priestess called out, her voice carrying the same imperious edge as it always did. She had posted a detachment just outside the doors. With a smile reminiscent of a cold one in a butchers shop she said
"You should have been more patient, another few days and there would have been no one left!"
Mila had fully expected the doors to burst open in a matter of seconds, more than a minute dragged by and the smile left her face, seeming to travel through the air to plaster its self all over Tarbo's and Sleek's. Whirling around in her chair Mila snapped at Katala
"Where are they!?"
"In Cathal's harem mistress," the subservient cultist replied
"What! Why?" Mila's calm was slipping quite badly with each new revelation, and the rest of the council was beginning to look even more uneasy.
It was Sleek who answered,
"Well we couldn't very well have them bursting in here, things could get messy. Much better that they enjoy themselves, if they were up here then it wouldn't be very much fun for either us or them."
"What, so you just sent them away?" Zara was incredulous, if she had known that they had that sort of power over the guard she would have held a coup years ago.
"Of course not," Tarbo scoffed. Nodding to the grey clad figure standing at Mila's shoulder he added "she did."
"Katala!" Mila started up from her chair, shocked, "your working for them?" the make believe slave shook her head
"No mistress, they are working for me." Turning back to the two Tzeentchens she said
"Carry on,"
With a mocking bow Tarbo and Sleek stood
"If you would all just get down on your knees please, this won’t hurt a bit." Tarbo instructed
"Damned if I will!" Belial scrambled from his chair. Drawing his sword he leapt up onto the table. When the councillor was half way across Tarbo lifted one hand, there was a swell of air and Belial was sent hurtling backwards to land back in his chair with a bone rattling thump
"And damned if you won’t," Sleek commented nastily.
Despite this display of sorcery the council members were still not quite done,
"Well if there is no chance of recruitment," Telrunya reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be another pack of whatever foul concoction the elf smoked, but instead of pushing the stuff into his pipe Telrunya suddenly put on a burst of speed. Jumping up from his chair he hurled the packet to the floor and made a break for the exit. As the packet hit the floor it broke apart, as it did it released a great billowing cloud of misty green grey fog. The fog spread rapidly, obscuring the fleeing councillor from sight.
Telrunya reached the doors, grasping the handle he tried to pull it open and make his escape, but the door wouldn't move. Putting all his strength into it Telrunya heaved at the knob, nothing. The thick cloud dispersed steadily and in a few moments everyone could see the chain smoker pulling at the door.
"Nice try," Sleek gloated "but did you really think we were going to leave the doors open?"
"Anyway, as I said, kneel." Tarbo repeated, no body moved.
"Very well," he sighed "we do it the hard way. Katala." he prompted the slave. Immediately Katala moved forward, with all the speed and strength Slaaneshi were famed for in battle. Moving behind Mila she grabbed the priestess by the hair and shoulder before kicking one leg behind the knee joint. Mila never had a chance, she was driven to her knees with a yelp.
At a motion from Tarbo Sleek walked around the table towards her, Zara made an attempt to get up, whether to go to Mila's aid or simply to try and escape was unclear, but a gesture from Tarbo sent her slamming back down. By this time Sleek had reached the wriggling priestess; as he approached Mila writhed against Katala's grip, but the slave was far too strong for the mistress. Reaching down Sleek ripped the elegant golden necklace from Mila's neck with a violent wrench making her gasp at the affront of it all. Reaching into his robes Sleek produced a necklace of quite another kind. It was a collar made of hundreds of tiny silver links. Without knowing quite why Mila began to struggle all the harder as the Tzeentchen un-did the clasp and settled the chain around her throat with an almost reverential gentleness.
As the clasp snapped shut her struggles ended and she knelt still, head bowed. Turning back to the group Sleek asked brightly
"Who next?" there was a distinct lack of volunteers, indeed Zara, Belial and Sassmaw all had to be forced back into their chairs by gusts of magic and Telrunya renewed his clamouring at the door.
Taking another of the collars from out of his own coat the tailor advanced on Telrunya.
"These are something of my own design, lovely aren’t they? I think that this one will really set off the colour of your eyes." As Tarbo neared Telrunya stopped heaving at the door and did something that the refined Tzeentchen sorcerer was unprepared for; he punched him in the nose.
"Owww!" Tarbo stumbled back, clutching a bloody nose "there's no need for fisticuffs," he actually seemed hurt by this show of physical bravado, emotionally as well as physically.
Unfortunately for Telrunya it would not be enough, straightening Tarbo stabbed out with an open palm, the tailor never touched Telrunya, but the later fell to his knees with a groan, clutching at his groin. Tarbo might not have had Katala's lithe speed, but he was not slow. While Telrunya was incapacitated he fastened the collar about his throat, though his eyes dropped submissively Telrunya did not take his hands away from his bruised groin, there are some things that are beyond even the most powerful of magic.
Those were the last of the free elves, the others had already been bound to their chairs as they tried to escape or attack and Sleek and Tarbo moved quickly amongst them, collaring each in turn. As the sliver chains closed about their throats' the councillors slid off the chairs and onto their knees, banging their heads on the table in the process
"I did ask you," Tarbo muttered as Zara let out an involuntary yelp, her skull more than a little bruised.
With that attended to the Tzeentchen's made their way over to Katala.
"And now for our payment," Tarbo prompted her. Not fool enough to think that she could handle two sorcerers alone Katala smiled
"Of course," she strode over to the other end of the table and heaved the crystal form of Aleash up, he toppled off the chair and crashed to the floor, the statue was unharmed though a couple of floor tiles shattered at the impact. Where the statue had been lay a small leather folder. Picking it up she pranced back up to where the cultists stood waiting and handed it over
"The names of all the Tzeentchen hunters amongst the Black guard and convents that we have been able to find, I am sure that you will find it illuminating reading."
Tarbo smiled,
"Excellent, but that's not what I meant," the grey clad elf now looked uncertain
"What do you..." she trailed off as Sleek reached into his robe and pulled out another silver collar
"NO! No it’s not fair, you can't!" she lashed out, but after Telrunya's display they were ready for such a move, her fist flashed across the first few centimetres at a speed that would have shamed a viper, but as it neared Sleek's face the air began to ripple and her hand began to slow, it was as if she was trying to punch through a waterfall of treacle. She had no better luck with the second blow and the spell appeared to be spreading, soon she was screaming in slow motion. In such a state it was child’s play to loop the chain around her neck and snap the clasp shut. As it closed she sank slowly to her knees, not through any force of will but simply because her body was still trapped inside the spell.
"Well, that was easier than I thought it was going to be," Tarbo remarked
"Yes, they didn't seem all that keen to come out and play did they?" Sleek replied
"Still, all’s well that ends well," Tarbo said "I think we deserve a little debauchery after all our hard work, don't you agree?"
"Oh certainly," Sleek's grin was just as wide as Tarbo's
"And you my little darlings?" Tarbo asked the prostrate Slaaneshi. As one they chorused
"Yes master."
Well done the infiltrators Tarbo and SleekDD, and apologies to everyone who wanted a proper game, this one has been plagued by inactivity in every sense and although I can't speak for SAU's that happened before I arrived here on the site I don't think I have ever seen such a convincing victory. Anyway Tarbo and SleekDD now have their reward, a couple of decades of fun and games before they get back to the real business of plotting and machinations, and the rest of you get to join in, if in a less dignified manner.
At the end of the game I shall as is traditional give the final roll call.
Tarbo : Leader of the infiltrators- Victorious and living in splendour Telrunya: Loyal Slaaneshi- magically enslaved day 3 Belial: Loyal Slaaneshi- magically enslaved day 3 SleekDD: infiltrator- Victorious and living in splendour Zzug: Loyal Slaaneshi- magically enslaved day 3 Sassmaw: Loyal Slaaneshi- magically enslaved day 3 Highborn on black dragon: Turned to wood by a swarm of bees, night two- innocent (ish) Cathal: Turned to wood by a swarm of bees, night two- innocent (well mostly) Draknir: Hacked to death (inactivity) day one- innocent (at least of this crime) Mostly Harmless: Hacked to death (inactivity) day one –innocent (not a Tzeentchen at any rate,) Lord Anubis: Hacked to death (inactivity) day one –innocent (as innocent as a Slaaneshi cultist can be) Kefka: Crushed by a troll night one.- innocent (well, you know what I mean)
So, thanks for joining in (those of you who did). I can only hope that when the next one of these roles around it is a bit of a better time of year (thinking on it I didn't really choose a very good time, ah well, live and learn).
Moding a group of Druchii.net players is much like directing the musical 'Cats' using actual cats. Frustrating, difficult, chaotic but ultimatley satisfying and a great deal of fun.
Arch Deacon of the RPG forum Gentleman of Moderation
i apologize for any inconvenience. also sorry for not responding my internet was down for a while there. Now on to the game
