September 1906
click
The sun rose over the Gobi desert. A short, monocled man stood there and stared into the distance, picking his nose. Another man, tall and heavy-set, fiddled with the controls on a machine the size of a small car. All was quiet.
Then, suddenly, visitors began to arrive.
From all directions, one at a time, some of the fastest beings in this world -- some of whom hadn't yet been born, some of whom would never even exist -- came flying, driving, and running in; each finally stood still in the neighborhood of the two men. Great clouds of sand and dust enveloped them all.
When the dust settled, the visitors eyed one another, confused. Finally, one dared to speak up.
"Lord Howfast, I presume?"
The shorter man grinned. "You may call me Clive, if you wish. I'm pleased to make your acquaintance. This here is my loyal servant, Frederick." The other man looked up from the machine and bowed, impressed by the array of famous guests Howfast had managed to gather in this mod-forsaken place.
"That's enough pleasantries, Howfast", said another voice from the group. "Where's the small crowd of spectators that you promised us? Where's the starting line? Aren't we going to have a race?"
"Oh, you will have a race, alright." Howfast paused for dramatic effect. "You will have a race --
to the death
!"
There were definite murmurs.
"To the death? I knew you were supposed to be 'eccentric', Howfast, but I would have thought murder to be beneath you. That machine -- is it a weapon?", said another visitor, his voice beginning to tremble.
"Ah, yes! Glad you reminded me, my good friend. That machine is not a weapon. I have other means of winning your cooperation. That machine is a
present-to-future transmitter
. I invented it myself. You see, not only are you all going to have a race to the death, you are going to have a race to the death shaped exactly like a very charming game, one that will be invented by a Russian about 80 years from now -- the game of
Mafia
."
"'Mafia'? Isn't that some group of criminals in Italy?"
"Precisely. In about 100 years from now, people will play a game named after this organization in a place called the 'Internet'. I have not yet been able to discern in what country this 'net' will be located, but my informants assure me that it is a wild, wondrous place."
"So what about the machine?"
"Do not interrupt me. I will explain all in due course. The genius of my ploy is not just in that your race will resemble a game of Mafia. It is in that your actions, and indeed your very fate, will be linked, across the mists of time, to the events in a specific Mafia game, a game played on
mafiascum.net
, called
Speed Mafia
. Its player group suspects absolutely nothing, and the few fools that I have recruited as its moderators will be firmly under the control of my powerful mind."
"But the machine?"
"The machine is what accomplishes the link across time. I have arranged that, once it is switched on, it will relay events in this time to one of the moderators, who will then be compelled by the machine's force to provide an exact description of all that happens to the player group. Now, let us contact the one who so aptly calls himself 'Fiasco' through the machine, so that we may begin informing the players. Frederick, turn it on."
"'Turn it on', Lord Howfast?"
"Yes, Frederick. Are you deaf?"
"Not at all, Lord Howfast. There is only that I thought... I thought you said to turn on the transmitter before sunrise."
"You mean the transmitter is already on?"
"I am afraid so, Lord Howfast. I think I turned it on... ah, yes, it was just as you were picking your nose this morning."
Howfast kicked the sand. "Why am I surrounded by blithering idiots?"
"Just the one, sir", replied Frederick humbly.
Regaining his composure, Howfast started talking to the sky. To those present, it seemed as though he wasn't addressing anyone in particular. "Very well, 'players'. Very well. Now you all know what is going on. The lives of these people here depend on your little game, so listen closely.
"All of these visitors will participate in a deadly race from here to the North Pole. This is not quite an ordinary Mafia game. It will have no days or nights -- just
choice blocks
, about which I will explain more later.
"You may vote for each other as normal, at any time. Once a majority of votes is reached, one of you will be
left behind
-- and being left behind means death."
There were a few gasps. "You're going to kill
everyone
except the winners of the race?", said someone.
Howfast smiled. "I suppose this would be the time to introduce you to a friend of mine." He made a strange whistling sound. The earth trembled.
From a crack in the ground emerged a monstrous fanged turtle, first its giant head, then its heavy body.
"Behold -- my Middle-Aged Mutant Ninja Turtle!!!", said Howfast.
"Multiple exclamation marks are a sure sign of a diseased m--"
"What insolence! Turtle, make an example out of this man!"
The turtle slowly attacked the group of visitors, dragging one of them -- the one that had just spoken up -- helplessly to the ground, then ripping him to pieces. Though it was now difficult to make out his identity, some visitors recognized him as being Yuri Gagarin.
"Now, as I was trying to explain before being rudely interrupted, each of you that is left behind will be overtaken by my Turtle and meet the same fate as this unfortunate cosmonaut.
"It is even worse than this. Among you are some who would like to see the rest dead. Even if in no danger of being left behind, you will need to fear your demise at every moment. Actually, I might as well say it is them." Howfast pointed at a few of the visitors. "Luckily, the 'players' have no idea at whom I just pointed, and they, not you, my visitors, will determine who is to be left behind." The visitors groaned in frustration.
"You may leave people behind at any time you wish, as long as you collect the required number of votes. To keep your adventure running smoothly, I will even allow you to "pre-vote". Once my Turtle gets to feed, all your pre-votes will replace your old votes immediately.
"There are some among you with special abilities. This is where the Choice Blocks come into play. Each Choice Block has a definite beginning and ending, and lasts exactly one week. The first two days of each Choice Block are Phase I. The last five days are Phase II. All abilities can be used once per Choice Block. Some of you -- cops, vigilantes, evil killers -- may have abilities that work instantaneously. These will take effect as soon as the 'moderators' receive your choice, or as soon as Phase II starts, whichever comes last. Others among you -- doctors, roleblockers -- may have abilities that work continuously. These will start taking effect as soon as the 'moderators' receive your choice, and will stop taking effect at the beginning of the next choice block.
"Those of you who would normally be allowed to talk in private at night -- mafia, masons -- are allowed to talk in private during Phase I only.
"I will have the 'moderators' write all this up in the rules, just in case. If anything is still unclear, ask questions in private messages, or in the thread if you think others would also be interested in the answers."
Howfast stopped talking to empty space and turned to the group of visitors again. "I will now switch off the machine, leaving the group of 'players' to bicker among themselves while your fate hangs in the balance. But first... I will have my servant laugh at you!"
"Bwaha", Frederick said. "BwahaHAHAHA! HAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHAHA--"
click
****
Cogito Ergo Sum,
Yuri Gagarin (Vanilla Townie)
, made an example out of during the pregame
****
We are still in the pregame phase. Confirm and ask any rules questions in thread.
