~ We set sail this mornin’ outa Tortuga. The Fort was lively an’ I gots me some new crewmen. I figure to let ‘em sober before puttin’ ‘em to the lines. Me an’ the old dogs can manage the Scum to open waters.
October 26
~ Near when I was set to rouse the lubbers, I found me flask empty but Pete ne’er answered a shout. The lad’s not on board. Has to be someone run him through an’ dumped em’ starboard. Lucky I still gots me hanging rope.
October 28
~ The crew's a'blubberin' 'bout what'll transpire should they be too lilly-libbered ta hang a fella on a watch. I told 'em we'd hafta go ta our bunks with nary a hangin'. Sissies!
October 30
~ That tick-libbered barnacle of a parrot's gettin on me nerves. How's a man to get no booty-countin' done with all that racket? I thinks we'll be havin' bird fer supper.
November 03
~ I went about ta' kickin' bunks this morn, but soon as I gets below decks, I spies Tekkactus, deader'n wet powder. A fella's gonna hang fer this! An' I was lookin' forward to the port o' ports too!
November 06
~ I'm mighty tired o' lazy sailors so I'll be whippin' a couple to make examples o'em.
November 9
~ Might be I gets to see Port Royal soon after all. One o' the slackers, Potates, is about ta walk the plank. Abaft o' which I'll hafta row in ta port ta gets me another scurvy dog.
November 12
~ The new fella's name be Goatrevolt. No sooner he gets aboard than I'm fixin' ta toss another lubber ta' the waves. Bilge rats ta the core, with nary a man among'm.
November 16
~ Never had to toss that lubber to the waves, but neither will I be warnin' 'im again. Too many slackers aboard. Another few days o' watch'll show 'em what it takes to git some shuteye 'round here!
November 17
~ I caint find that shore-dog PlaysWithSquirrels anywheres. An' there's a new lassie aboard! Maybe I bin hitting me rum a bit too much. Is'ere such'n animal?
November 19
~ Another o'th' bilge rats is 'bout to be cast o'er the rail. Methinks the buggers are so bull-headed 'bout goin' ta Port Royal, they be willin' ta swim.
November 20
~ Finally we be in Royal. It's a shame me old dog Gremwell be a goner, but there's nothin' like a bit o' wenchin' ta help a fella morn. An' there is a bit o' good news. I found me a new crewman at th' saloon.
November 24
~ We left Port Royal in a drunken haze, woke somewheres off the coast o' Haiti. There's bin another killin' but this time the dogs kilt one'a there own! Somethin mighty strange's afoot.
November 28
~ Things be settlin' down 'round the Scum, an the new fellas are gettin' along fine. Bodies be chatterin' 'bout a mass claim, whatever that be. Blasted lubbers.
December 14
~ I bin too drunk ta scribble in me log these past few days, but we marooned one lazy crewman an' scooped up another on a scrub rock near naked as a reef. Figured I should probably note it, fer me records.
December 17
~ These lubbers o' mine are a mite infuriatin' this time out. No lynch today. I gotsta quit findin' me crewmen at sissy bars. They be fine in a fight, but can't pick a lime from a barrel.
December 22
~ Today we sail across the Atlantic lookin' fer fairer raidin' grounds. 'Twasn't a wound delivered this time around, neither by day nor night, but it don't mean the mutiny's over. There'll be a hangin' on this watch er me name aint Captain Morgan.
December 27
~ 'Tis quiet on the sea... an' on me ship. I thinks there be crewmen nappin on 'er lines. Time fer the nine tails.
December 31
~ A happy new year it'll be fer sure, but I better not catch the prankster keeps puttin egg nog in me rum!
January 4
~ I bin watchin' these dogs fer a couple days now, an' they're singin' chanties like me orders said. But barely. I sure hopes there be a hangin' on this watch.
January 7
~ Holy mother, that was a big wave. Seemed like the whole ship disappeared fer a couple'a days. But no matter. Me crew's finally provin' their salt. We hung a mutineer!
January 11
~ We drifted out of the high Atlantic this morn, sighted the gates of the Azores off the bow. But before I could gets me crew ta the lines, I spotted a pair of'em dead as the doldrums. Blasted mutineers!
January 20
~ Me thinks I be spendin' too much time in me cabin. The crew done hung a lass before I even knew somethin' was afoot. It's okay though, 'cause she was a mutinous dog.
January 28
~ I finally emerged from me cabin ta find a quiet ship. We've drifted south toward the Canaries, an' methinks we'll be sightin' the coast o' Africa in the mornin'. The crew best be ready ta be roused.
January 29
~ I've called the crew ta deck one last time. Today we abandon the Scum at anchor. Here's ta hopin' we kin hang the bastard what killed ClockworkRuse. If not, I'm afraid we may be doomed.
Last edited by Ythill on Thu Jan 29, 2009 12:34 pm, edited 56 times in total.
The ‘lubbers say there be no honor among thieves, an’ they be right. There be no need fer honor when we gots the articles. Any soul dares break ‘em, he’ll be keelhauled an’ thrown to the deep. So watch yerselves.
The Ship’s Articles
I’m yer cap’n! Yill do as I say, or I’ll feed ye to the sharks!
Keep yer filthy hands off me rum!
Friend er foe, we be on the same ship. Treat yer fellas with respect. And we be pirates, not sissies, so keep a thick skin about ye. Yer cap’n don’t like getting amidships o’ no squabbles.
Yill leave yer bunks when I say, an’ yill douse the lamps when I say. Yer first three watches’ll be no more ‘en a fortnight an’ a half’n length. After that, every watch’s a fortnight. Yer time below decks’ll be four days exactly.
Ye best look busy when yer on watch. If yer not singing chanties with yer mates in any three day spell, yill get a taste a me nine-tails. If I needs to whip ye twice in the same watch or four times altogether, I’ll throw ye overboard and gets me another lackey’n the next port o’ call.
When there’s mutiny about, every one among ye gets a vote every watch. Just
shout
out who ye wants ta string up by sayin’
vote: so-and-so
. Ye can change yer vote if ye wants, an’ ye kin
unvote
if ye wants. If enough a ye votes fer the same fella before the watch is through, we’ll hang ‘em from the nearest yardarm. Ye kin
vote: no lynch
too… if yer a sissy!
When yer on watch, ye kin all chatter ‘mongst yerselves, but there be no chatterin’ below decks: that sorta talk breeds mutinies.
Nor will ye be wise to speak in no secret code. Hold yer tongues ta English, mates, an’ don’t be postin’ nuthin’ invisible neither. I know some a ye be plottin’ against me!
We don’t want no lubber talk ‘round the ship. If yer usin’ block quotes, they best contain the words a’ yer mates an’ nothin’ more.
Ye needs ta
shout
if ye wants the cap’ns attention! I gots the roar o’ the sea in me ears.
Dead men tells no tails, so if ye gets hung or falls in battle, shut yer yap. Bein’ a pirate an’ all, I suppose you kin say “Arrrrrgggh!” with yer final breath, but that be the last of it.
Talk like a pirate or I’ll curse ye fer ‘lubbers an’ make fun o’ yer mamas.
The watch began with a rude awakening. Some fool kicked your bunk roughly but he was gone before you were aware enough to throttle him. Now you’re standing on the pitching deck, waiting to find out why you were roused so early. The golden sun is cresting the horizon, lighting a clear sky that heralds calm winds, and there isn’t another ship in sight.
Just when you’re about to give up and climb into the nest for a nap, the captain emerges. He sashays over to the edge of the pilot’s deck and raises one booted foot up onto the rail. It’s his signature pose. You are a crewman on the infamous Scum o’ the Sea and the renegade Captain Morgan –known across the waves for his paranoia, his ruthlessness, and his fine spiced rum- is your stalwart leader. He glares at each of you in turn, raises a flask to his lips for a long pull, and then opens his mouth to shout over the roar of the sea.
“G’morning mateys! Some o’ ye be green-bellied lubbers, wonderin’ why ye were summoned ‘bove decks at this unholy hour. Some o’ ye be salty dogs, seasoned an’ true, an’ ye knows what I’m ‘bout to say. But some o’ ye knows what’s comin’ fer a different reason altogether… an’ curse ye ta the locker.”
“See, a few ports back, I gots me a fine cabin boy. Every night since, when I shouts fer me rum, he comes a runnin’ wit’ a sharp step an’ an aye-aye an’ all that rot. The lad was a fine student o’ the pirate ways and sure ta be an officer some day. ‘Cept last night be different. I shouts fer me rum, an’ gets no answer. I called fer the lad over an’ over to no avail, an’ then I set out to find him. Nothin’. Best I figure, he was thrown ta the waves. An’ ye all know what that means.”
Some of the older sailors sigh. It’s both legend and fact that several of Morgan’s crews were decimated when the paranoid old dog suspected that a mutiny was brewing.
“I smells somethin’,” he continues, as expected. “Somethin’ straight from the poop deck. There’s mutinous dogs among us, that’s fer sure. All a ye’ read the articles, an’ all o’ ye knows the score. So lets get ta the hangin’.”
Morgan glowers at the crew one last time, then he turns on his heel and struts back into his cabin. The rest of you are left on the deck, looking around at each other and wondering who is going to die first.
The first watch begins!
With 12 alive, it takes 7 to lynch.
Yer off ta a fine start, me mateys! I almost fergots ta tell ye... come hair nor high water, this watch'll end on Sunday, November 15th, at 15:00 MST (GMT-7).
Yer off ta a fine start, me mateys! I almost fergots ta tell ye... come hair nor high water, this watch'll end on Sunday, November 15th, at 15:00 MST (GMT-7).
An if me shipmates be too lily-libbered teh lynch by then, then what, Capn?
Aye... there is that. If'n we gets ta the end o' the watch wit' no agreement, we hits the bunks wit' nary a hangin'. An' ye be sure it'll make yer captain ornary too! Aaaaaaaarrrrrgh!
The watch has been underway for a few days. The crew of the Scum has been milling about, tarring the deck, and blacking the lines, but there hasn't been another ship in sight. Nor has there been much talk of hanging. A few of the newcomers are starting to believe that the captain was only joking.
One afternoon shortly after his first speech, Captain Morgan once more struts from the forecastle. Some of the crew are playing word games with Mitey, Morgan's pet parrot. The captain glowers at this practice for a moment before withdrawing a pistol from his silken brace. The crowd flinches back and a few start apologizing, but the blunderbus remains leveled at the parrot. One quick finger-twitch later and all that's left of Mitey is a cloud of shredded feathers.
"That scurvy bird was learnin' to chatter far too well and some o' ye were speaking at her like she's one o' the crew. It's unnatural." Of course, you can hardly hear him over the ringing in your ears.
On his way back inside, old Morgan shouts over his shoulder. "An' get ye some shuteye below decks! One body's enough fer this watch!"
The parrot (Mitey Mouse) has been slain. She was loyal to the captain.
Night actions are due by 18:00 MST (GMT -7) on Monday, November 3rd.
It’s another rude awakening but at least nobody kicked your bunk. Blinking in the harsh tropical sun, you stagger out onto the deck. The coast of cuba is a distant memory but another island can be seen on the southern horizon. It must be Jamaica. Daydreaming of the sin and luxury of Port Royal, you lick your lips and move to your station with a new spring in your step.
Before you get there, Morgan’s voice cuts through your expectations of revelry. “I’d say ‘fine mornin’ to ye lads, but I fear ‘tis not! Aye, that be Port Royal ye spies. The pirate capital them lubbers call it, full o’ more wenches and rum than a man kin suffer ta’ partake in. But it’ll hafta wait. Avast! Drop the anchor!”
Someone must have followed orders because you hear the unmistakable metallic buzz of anchor-chain in the eyelets. You swing your gaze around to the captain and notice, for the first time, that he has dragged something large up from below decks. A second glance reveals that it was once a man, though he is swollen and blue beyond recognition.
“Ye be guessin’ right if yer guessin’ this be the body o’ good ole’ Tekkactus. A more loyal sailor there never was. An’ might be he’d not’a died if it weren’t fer ye lilly-libbered sissies sourin’ me heart, talkin’ ta’ that bird. Now I said it once an’ I’m tired o’ sayin’ it. We gots a mutiny aboard, an’ the Scum'll be sittin’ here becalmed until ye sissies agree on a hangin’!
A sailor (Tekkactus) has been slain. He was loyal to the captain.
The second watch begins. With ten alive it takes six to lynch.
Automatic deadline set for Thursday, November 17 at 19:00 MST (GMT -7).
Last edited by Ythill on Mon Nov 03, 2008 5:20 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Though a taste of the nine-tails seems to have gotten a response out of PlaysWithSquirrels, Potates still isn't singing with the crew. After pacing back and forth for what seems like days, Morgan raises his flail again.
"This be the last time I be tellin' ye," he barks, scoring the sailor's back. After a good flogging, he drags Potates over to the rail and shakes him. "This be yer last chance, lubber!"
If Potates does not post within 24 hours, he will be replaced.
Continuing with a string of explatives that makes even the seasoned among you blush, the captain flings Potates over the rail. The crewman flounders for a moment, then starts the long swim to shore. Ignoring him, Morgan lowers a longboat, climbs in, and rows towards Port Royal.
His swearing doesn't stop but, rather, fades in the distance.
The talk of hangings has dominated the watch and Morgan has hardly been missed. No swearing heralds his arrival, which begins with a longboat bumping against the stern. He is quickly hoisted. Beside him in the boat is a drunken sea dog.
"Gather round mateys! This be our newest hand, Goatrevolt. He'll be plyin' the winds wit you and me. But don't think fer a second he couldn't a bin in on no mutiny..." The captain's paranoid eyes narrow. "This boardin' coulda bin planned. An' one neck be as good fer stretchin' as another!"
Though he looks uneasy, the newcomer signs the articles and the arguments resume.
Goatrevolt replaces Potates.
springlullaby wrote:Yarrrrrrrrrrrrrr! Avast!
Capt'n, give a prod to Potates, militant, Squirrel, and humscunter would ye?
"Don't ferget ta
shout
! Yer lucky I heards ye."
Militant is up to date on activity requirements. PlaysWithSquirrels and humscunter have been prodded. If PlaysWithSquirrels does not post within 24 hours, he will be replaced.
The captain is clearly insane and, after being awake for a watch that has lasted almost three weeks, even he's a little confused.
Gremwell wrote:
Deadline: Thursday, November 17 at 19:00 MST (GMT -7).
did you mean Monday November 17? or am I missing something.
Gremwell has dicovered a copy-paste error of mine that has gone unchecked for some time. Per the rules, deadline is three weeks (Monday, November 17th). However, since my mistake may have mislead some of you, I will consider requests to extend the deadline. Please send them by PM rather than post them in the thread.
"Gather 'round me mates, I gots an announcement fer ye! I knows some o' ye be noddin' off at th' lines, bein' on deck fer so long, but I aint abouts to let this watch end without no hangin'. So all o' ye buck up! Th' watch is hereby extended!
New deadline set for Thursday, November 20 at 19:00 MST (GMT -7).
At sometime during the last day or so, one of your fellow crewmen must have slipped into the sea because he is nowhere to be found. Obviously sick of waiting to reach port, he decided to swim. In an unrelated and quite coincidental turn of events, a stow-away is found in the captain's longboat.
She's a bit bedraggled but seems no worse for the wear. She's introduced to Morgan and he seems befuddled (or maybe just drunk) but he lets her sign the articles anyway.
Stalking among you with his flail wagging back and forth, Morgan glares at each of you in turn but he stops beside humscunter, who is sound alseep on a folded sail. The captain raises his nine-tails and delivers a rude awakening.
Humscunter has been prodded. If he doesn't post within 24 hours, he will be replaced.
The captain whips humscunter a few more times, then picks him up by the collar and swings him out over the rail. Though the sheets are down, the ship is still rolling from side to side and panic widens the crewman’s eyes as his feet kick uselessly over the brine.
Unbeknownst to Morgan, another violent drama is unfolding on the forecastle, where several salty dogs have thrown the captain’s noose over the lowest of the foremast’s yardarms. Two nearby pirates are looking nervous but, after the free end of the rope is secured, it is Gremwell who is pushed to the edge of the ‘castle. Luckily, Morgan has had a hinged rail installed for this very purpose.
The noose is slipped over Gremwell’s head and he’s given a moment to utter his last words. “I’m but a sailor,” he says lamely. “Look, I even gots a marlin spike for untyin’ knots.”
Shrugging, his crewmates push him through the gate and he falls, bouncing with an audible pop at the end of the rope. The marlin spike drops to the deck and rolls to a stop beside the main mast.
Spinning around so quickly that humscunter’s legs nearly splinter the rail, Morgan shouts at the lynch mob. “What’n th’ell you lads done now?! That be Gremwell, one o’ me best men! If he’s a mutineer, I be a three legged bar-wench! Blast ye to ashes, ye slobberin’ fools!” After dropping humscunter and glowering for a moment, however, the captain relaxes enough to smile.
“Aaaaaarrrrrgh. I suppose it be a blessin’ that ye found the innards ta hang a man after all. An’t least we don’t need to set becalmed no more. Weigh the anchor, lads. We be sleepin’ in Port Royal tonight!”
A sailor (Gremwell) has been slain. He was loyal to the captain.
Night actions are due by Sunday, November 23, at 22:00 MST (GMT -7).
It’s been a mellow four days, two in port, two drifting east-northeast through the sea-gate. There’s been some work to do, but not much, and nobody’s been on official watch so it doesn’t seem that odd that you haven’t seen Jebus around. This afternoon, however, a hoarse cry from below decks summoned all hands and, responding, you arrived in time to watch a few of your mates fish a bloated body out of the bilge. “It be Jebus,” one of the crewmen shouts, “somebody done ‘im in fer sure.”
There is a mutter in the crowd that quickly fades when Morgan appears at the top of the ladder. He makes his way to the body, unceremoniously emptying the contents of the dead man’s various pouches. Included in the spoils are an old compass and astrolabe, a fine pistol, and a pocket watch that, according to the captain, belonged to his now-dead cabin boy.
“This be proof positive, lads,” the grizzly captain growls, brandishing the fob. “We aint hung no mutinous cowards yet, but it seems they be killin’ one another. Or mayhaps there be somethin’ altogether different afoot here!”
“But ‘nuff said. There be murderers on the Scum an’ ye all know what that means. Another watch. An’ another stretched neck! Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrgh!”
The man-at-arms (Jebus) has been slain. He was mutinous scum.
RandomGem replaces Humscunter (effective at the start of the last night phase).
The third watch begins. With eight alive it takes five to lynch.
Automatic deadline: Monday, December 15 at 18:00 MST (GMT-7).
Now I understand yer all hungover from our holiday, but 'tis no reason to lay about on watch," Morgan growls, brandishing his flail. "To the 'stan with ye, er I'll be throwin' ye o'er the rail! An' there aint no convenient isle within swimmin' distance this time 'round!"
The vote count hasn't changed, but I'll post it for reference anyway. I've been slow on prodding this week because it's finals week for many people, but deadline is in four days and I'll probably be sending out some prods soon.
"More time, says ye! Aaaaaarrrrrgh, ye be the lubbers who made me shoot me dear parrot! Same lubbers 'at hung one'a me best sailors! There'll be no more time fer ye.
Now gets ta hangin'. Ye knows a slack line stirs me temper!
RandomGem has been prodded. If he does not post within 24 hours, he will be replaced.
Morgan guides the ship into the shoals of un unchartered island off the coast of Haiti. There, on the barren shore, he roughly deposits RandomGem who has been of little use. Fortunately another pirate, previously marooned by another ship, is already waiting on the shore.
The newcomer looks thin and a little grimy, but he's obviously learned whatever lesson his former captain put him there to learn, and Morgan feels he'll be a dutiful crewman.
"Welcome Xtxom aboard, lads," the captain snarls as he helps the new guy over the rail.
Though it's possible to take a cat nap in the rigging, you've been on watch and more-or-less awake for almost three weeks. Looking sleepy himself, the captain can barely lift his leg onto the rail.
"Get crackin," the old man says with a yawn. "Me bunk's callin."
By virtue of his status as a late-day replacement, Xtoxm has the option of requesting a deadline extension and has done so. The deadline is hereby extended 48 hours, meaning that it will fall on
And so the watch went: a handful of hung-over scallywags arguing hunches as you sailed southeast, burning ships and pillaging along the way. You’ve skirted the Lesser Antilles at the edge of the Caribbean, but have not quite spotted Trinidad when your conversation begins to grow more dire. The captain’s mood is sour and someone is sure to hang…
The arguments are still raging when Morgan’s voice struggles to boom over the creak and crash of his old vessel. “I’ve never, in me long an' savage career, seen such a pathetic band o’ pied an’ pretty sea ladies as yerselves. Three weeks I gaves ye! Three weeks an’ then two more days ta boot, an’ what decision did ye come ta? Nota one, that’s what!”
Remembering Mitey’s explosive exit, the crew is silent, but Morgan doesn’t reach for his brace. “I’ve 'ad it up ta me earlobes with yer belly-achin’ an’ yer carryin’ on! I’m goin’ ta me cabin an’ I’m drinkin' me some rum an’ getsin' me some shut-eye an’ aint none o’ ye better bother me none. An’ don’t do no dyin’ neither.
We’ll have plenty o’ that on yer next watch!
No lynch has occurred. It is now Night 3.
Night Action Deadline: Monday, December 22 at 02:00 MST (GMT -7).
It’s been more than four days since Morgan sent everyone below decks. For most of it, the Scum’s been anchored off Trinidad. Some of you have used the longboats to slip into town for refreshment or to sell off your share of the booty. Others have slept fitfully, rising only to lounge on the deck or take a quick dip in the clear blue Caribbean.
Last night, after the last supply run was complete. The captain and a skeleton crew of volunteers weighed anchor and unfurled the sheets; the Scum was piloted to deeper waters east of the Antilles. The islands faded from view. Those of you who were sleeping awaken and emerge to see nothing but the vast Atlantic in all directions. Morgan is at the wheel and, uncharacteristically, he’s whistling to himself.
“Good mornin’ sissies,” he barks cheerfully when he spots you. Eventually, someone finds the courage to ask him what’s got him feeling so chipper. “’Twas a fine leave,” he says, smiling. “Now, it be still true that yer mates are a bunch’a ladies with no stomach fer the noose, but it seems the loyal among ye aint the only ones too lilly-libbered fer killin’.”
A quick head-count verifies Morgan’s claim. “Not a body died last night,” he says, “but I gets the feelin’ this may be the calm before rough seas. In other words, a body best be dyin’ on this watch. Now gets ye ta yer posts, an’ starts ta figure who’s the dogs among ye, cause I expect a hangin’ today, come hell er high water. Aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrgh!”
There were no deaths last night.
The fourth watch begins. With eight alive it takes five to lynch.
Automatic deadline: Friday, January 9 at 14:00 MST (GMT-7).
Having considered all opinions, I have decided to increase the automatic deadline period by four days. This is due to the holidays. However, I expect all of you to continue to abide by activity requirements during the holidays, unless you have posted a V/LA notice in the thread.
"Aaaaarrrrrggh! The holidays be over mateys. I 'xpect ye ta be singin' wit' yer mates. I'll be bustin' out me nine tails soon enough. Don't make me throw a body ta the deep."
, and everybody should be voting for it right now.
Goatrevolt wrote:I'll second this call.
Deadline extension please.
The deadline was already extended four days to account for people being absent during the holidays. It will not be extended further at this time. You have six days.
Xtoxm wrote:
Mod: If a Roleblocker were to block a Roleblocker, how would you hypothetically resolve this situation?
Just over two weeks you’ve been at high sea, not an islet in sight. Out here, the vast, misty blue is like a desert. There are no ports, no gulls. The vista is impossibly flat; the night sky, a sparkling ebony globe.
The watch started like most. There were accusations and arguments but then wiser voices called out for the men to speak about themselves, their roles onboard the ship. As salty dogs took turns re-introducing themselves, one thought he had heard a lie. He argued with the liar. Others joined the conversation which, empowered by many voices, quickly became a chant for the noose.
Erratus was seized and carried to the castle. The chanting crowd wrapped the captain’s hanging rope around the boatswain’s corded neck and, with the push of many hands, send him to his end. The impact at the end of the rope was enough to break his neck and his tool belt; Erratus’ hammer clattered to the deck before a silent and satisfied crowd.
“It’s about time,” Morgan growled from the wheel. His voice was harsh as always but, when you turn to look at him, you see that he is smiling.
The boatswain (Erratus Apathos) has been slain. He was mutinous scum.
Night actions are due by Sunday, January 11, at 21:00 MST (GMT -7).
You awaken to a hoarse cry from below decks, followed by a string of swears. Morgan’s voice is as unmistakable as his ire. You drop out of your bunk and quickly climb to the deck, arriving just in time to see the captain drag a body out of the aft stairwell.
“Oh just keep yer britches on!” Morgan spits in response to your impatient stares. He turns on his heel and disappears back into the stairwell. Long moments pass but eventually, to the raspy tune of his own grunts, the captain reemerges. He’s dragging a second body, this one a female. Once Morgan has dropped the second corpse next to the first, he places a boot on the pile and addresses you all.
“Aaaaarrrrrgggggh! Me bets yer lilly brains are aswim wit questions. I say they be the same questions on me tongue. Just when we thinks we’re getting’ one up on the mutineers, they greets us with a double-death for g’mornin’. I don’t know what’s afoot ‘ere mates, but I kin count, an’ I’m seein’ so few men left wit breath in their lungs, we kin hardly man the lines.”
“So gets ye ta hangin’ before the Scum becomes a ghost ship!”
The quartermaster (militant) has been slain. He was loyal to the captain.
A powder monkey (crywolf20084) has been slain. She was indifferent to ship politics.
The fifth watch begins! With five alive, it takes three to lynch.
Automatic deadline: Monday, January 26, at 23:00 MST (GMT-7).
I will be on the road for the next 2-3 weeks and will have very limited access. I'll be sure to find a library or coffee shop and check in every three days or so. Please respect the activity guidelines and realize that you may have to bear with a long twilight, depending on the timing of the lynch.
Mod: Your pirate fact is wrong. Blackbeard was British, from Bristol.
I didn't say he was from America. His origins are not a matter of established fact. I did say he was an "American pirate" because he operated solely out of the western hemisphere: in the bahamas and along the southern east coast of the U.S.
(I don't actually leave until tomorrow morning, in case anyone was wondering.)
Unlike the others, Huntress was strung up quickly and quietly. She tried pointing a finger at another crewman, but nobody was listening. She jerks a couple of times at the end of Morgan's hanging rope, and then all is quiet.
A quick search reveals that she was telling the truth about one thing anyway: her only weapon is a blood-encrusted marlin spike.
Morgan smiles and declares that it's time to get drunk.
A sailor (Huntress) has been slain. She was mutinous scum.
Please note that computer access on this trip has been harder to find than I expected. Rather than post a false promise of availability, I have set the night action deadline for late next week, when I will be back home and in front of my computer.
Thanks for your patience.
The Final Tally
3 ~ Huntress (Springlullaby, Xtoxm, Goatrevolt)
1 ~ Springlullaby (Huntress)
Not voting: ClockworkRuse.
Overall Prods: Huntress (1); springlullaby (1); Goatrevolt (1); Xtoxm (1).
Night action deadline: Thursday, January 29, 12:00 MST (GMT-7).
Your time below decks has been long and boring, but not really relaxing. Other than the captain, there are only four of you left and it’s hard to sleep knowing that one of you is likely to die before the next watch is called. With so few crewmen and the sheets furled in their lockers, the ship is as quiet as the bottom of the sea. It drifts steadily on the southern trade winds, through the Canary Basin, just off the coast of Africa which stands like an invisible promise of redemption beyond the horizon off the port-side rail.
You are roused from your reverie by the captain’s hoarse shout, “Land Ho!” Cursing the lack of rest, you climb to the deck to get back to work. Morgan is standing at the wheel, shouting too many orders for this skeleton crew to carry out. A crumpled form is motionless at his feet, confirming that there are only three crewmen left this morning.
You busy yourselves with the lines but your chanties are too quiet and cold to be inspiring. The captain speaks blandly over your dulcet tones. “Seems we still gots a problem, as you kin see from the body o’ poor ClockworkRuse. It’s got me shiverin’ that the dogs be brave enough ta take the first mate.”
“We don’t got enough crew ta’ make it ‘round the cape, lads. So I’m ‘fraid Africa’s gonna be our port o’ call fer awhile. We’ll drop anchor off a’ La Palma an’ take the longboat ta’ shore. Now gets ye ta’ hangin’. We’ll see if we can’t kill this villain before we abandon the Scum.”
The first mate (ClockworkRuse) has been slain. He was loyal to the captain.
The sixth and final watch begins! With three alive, it takes two to lynch.
Automatic deadline: Thursday, February 12, at 13:00 MST (GMT-7).
You haven’t even gotten the mainsail at full mast when a glance around shows that springlullaby has vanished. She appears at your side a moment later with a bottle of the captain’s famous rum. You know you’re risking his wrath by drinking it, but it doesn’t seem to matter at this point. Springlullaby makes her rounds, bottle feeding the two remaining crewmen until they are reeling.
Just before he passes out, Xtoxm notices that the cook isn’t drinking. And that the cook is Asian. And… wait a minute… is that a ninja sword?
The sixth watch ends with no lynch!
The ninja (springlullaby) wins the game. She was aberrant, and intent on killing all pirates.
Well, that was quick. It’s interesting that the game ended up dependant on whether SL could get a post up today before the two obv-votes rolled in. Congratulations to springlullaby. She played marvelously, and a few mistakes from the mutinous crew gave her the upper hand. I’ll post roles and night actions soon.
Xtoxm wrote:And seeing as i've made a save, and we double scum lynched, that means town has been fucked ever since that NL...
Not really. If you had lynched SL first and Huntress second, you would have won easily.
There were only three pieces of important information not available in at least one role PM...
(1) One-shot actions were consumed if blocked. I left this out so as to avoid revealing the possibility of a RB. This game was balanced on the idea of being swingy, especially in the endgame. The sheer number of one-shot abilities was designed to give every faction the chance of having a secret one-shot game-changer left after mass-claim. However, I knew that having every one-shot play out would be a bit too much, so I made blocks consume them and used a fair amount of blocking in the set-up.
(2) The quartermaster will block the helmsman if there is a conflict. I left this out so as not to reveal the presence of a second roleblocker. I read some threads on full-blockers vs. one-shots and agreed with the consensus. And it's a good thing I decided beforehand because it came up in-game.
(3) Recruit attempts cannot be blocked. I left this out to avoid revealing the possibility of a RB and of a recruiting dynamic. This was a last minute fix just before the game started. I ran some numbers and realized that the scum could play perfectly but still lose their advantage because of unlucky timing. I also thought about the fact that blind recruiting already had so many possible fails (not loyal, not an officer, a loyal officer that says no) that immunity to the block was a much-needed balance. This one came up too, though it ended up being moot when the offer to change sides was refused.
One other adjust from the original set-up was the parrot. Originally I had two powder monkeys who would win if one was left alive, but I thought that it would hurt activity levels and I also suspected that the extra alignment confirmation would make the survivors too valuable to the town: a severe town advantage after mass-claim that would surely lead to an alliance of the two factions, especially if one powder monkey was already dead. I pulled one powder monkey and then I was in a predicament. Adding another sailor threw off the recruitment balance, adding scum was not acceptable without completely revampng their roles, and adding another loyal officer would have made the town too powerful. Instead, I figured that a PRed vanilla townie with a plainly sensical theme could be used as a pawn by all of the factions without throwing off the balance and would make for an interesting discussion subject straight out of the RVS. It's good to be right!
One last thing. I read Xtoxm's disappointment that the SK had a one-shot no-lynch ability. I think the inclusion of that ability was important to give her a chance against two over-powered factions. The main intent behind that ability was to give a prudent SK the win in a prisoners' dilemma tie. It was counter-balanced by two one-shot abilities that could have made it moot and, interestingly, the endgame included both of those town players.
Goat could have answered SL's "haha, no lynch" with a "haha, no night phase" as long as SL targeted you. You could have answered her "hah, no lynch" with a "haha, Goat is protected" as long as she targeted him. And both of you, together, could have made her win impossible. Except that both of you had expended your one-shots before the endgame. So, yeah, patience won the game.
Night Actions
Night One
Militant locked Gremwell in the brig.
Springlullaby poisoned Tekkactus.
ClockworkRuse investigated Erratus Apathos (officer, boatswain).
Erratus Apathos recruited Springlullaby (failed, not Loyal).
Night Two
Militant locked ClockworkRuse in the brig.
Springlullaby poisoned Jebus.
ClockworkRuse tried to investigate crywolf20084 (blocked).
Erratus Apathos tried to recruit ClockworkRuse (opted to remain loyal).
Night Three
Militant locked Goatrevolt in the brig.
Xtoxm protected ClockworkRuse (one-shot expended).
Springlullaby tried to poison Goatrevolt (blocked).
ClockworkRuse tried to investigate Goatrevolt (blocked).
Goatrevolt tried to steer the ship into a storm (blocked, one-shot expended).
Erratus Apathos recruited Huntress (successful recruit expended).
Night Four
Militant tried to lock Xtoxm in the brig (preemptive kill).
Springlullaby poisoned Militant.
ClockworkRuse investigated Goatrevolt (officer, helmsman)
Huntress stabbed Crywolf20084 with her marlin spike.
Night Five
Springlullaby poisoned Clockworkruse.
Comments
Day one was an early demonstration of SL's savvy. If you read back, you'll see her make a clear effort to get MM modkilled and it worked. SL got away with it cleanly and had already established herself as a worthy SK.
The original scum didn't say much of anything in their night-talk thread and I think it seriously hurt their game. The scum faction was set up to gain an incredible advantage if they played the strategy perfectly, but they hardly talked strategy at all. With the way their roles were set up, they should have been fishing for loyal sailors while performing NKs. A mass-claim was in their best interest because it revealed sailors and exposed the ninja. A weapons claim, of course, would spell certain doom for them and require the Man-at-arms to protect his partner by getting himself lynched.
So, the blind recruit attempts on N1 and N2 probably hurt the mutiny more than anything else. Although SL targeting Jebus with the NK was another blow from which they were unlikely to recover. When EA finally recruited a sailor on N3, she had already claimed her weapon. Then he got himself lynched. Huntress never had a reasonable chance to win, but she gets an A for effort. And I am pleased that she took the alignment change so gracefully.
SL did a great job of avoiding both the NK and the noose. She had the D1 modkill and a great N2 kill. Her N4 choice was excellent as well: any other kill would have left Xtoxm locked in a cell, which would have kept him from getting a weapon result on the scums' only kill. Which, of course, would have almost guarenteed a D5 SL lynch.
The town played better than the scum, IMO, but there were a few problems that kept them from the win. If someone had seen what was happening on D1 and jumped to MM's aid, it would have helped. The no lynch should not have been allowed to happen. And, though I believe Goatrevolt was the townie with the most accurate view of what was going on in the game, his insistance on finding scum before SK may have been the single factor most responsible for the town's loss.
Poor crywolf didn't deserve to die. She played well. Her only mistake IMO was where she claimed that she was vanilla but not a sailor, and she managed to recover from that one quite well. I don't think anyone was expecting Huntress to NK her. I know I wasn't, but Huntress explained the reasons and they made sense.
Anyway... that's about all I can think of right now. Questions? Comments? All feedback is appreciated.
