EPTSurprisingly Normal Mini Mafia III - Page 3
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Jackal58
United States4264 Posts
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GMarshal
United States22154 Posts
EDIT: Roles sent, shoot me an angry PM if you haven't gotten yours yet. Day post going up in 34 minutes, please refrain from starting until then | ||
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DropBear
Australia4372 Posts
Let's get this party started! | ||
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GMarshal
United States22154 Posts
Day 1 ![[image loading]](http://i.imgur.com/DWebr.jpg) It is a time of great uncertainty and social unrest. The gangs have been moving in to consolidate their power in cities all over the land. Only in the poorest districts, where there is no wealth or power for the gangs to usurp for their own, can people live in peace. That was until today. GMarshal the Mafia Shaman surveyed the slum village on the outskirts of the city. It was a disgusting place, far more pungent than even the least salubrious opium dens and brothels he had frequented in the past. The simple villagers did not bathe for the only water source other than their crude well was the open sewers, which reeked of every variety of excrement. Dirty pigs happily wallowed in the mud that formed the town square and scrawny chickens bickered over trash. Mangy dogs lay wherever they could find shade, the blistering sun preventing them from frolicking with the ragged children. The stalls and shops were smeared with tar but sturdy. The wares were well-built and functional but nothing here was of quality to rival the superlative products of the opulent, boutique establishments in the city centre where the Mafia normally operated. At first glance it would have appeared that there was nothing important here at all, but the all-powerful Shaman knew otherwise. “This is the place.” The villagers looked up from their work to stare at the handful of strangers strutting into their quiet village. Travellers were rare in these parts and tended to attract attention. GMarshal sneered at the gathering crowd. His chief lieutenant CubEdln addressed them. “Hand over everything you own and leave this place. It belongs to us now. Do this and we might let you live.” The villagers cried out in indignation. “Who the hell do you think you are? We live here. Get lost.” “SILENCE!” yelled GMarshal. You cretins obviously do not recognise us. We are the Mafia and WE DO NOT PLAY GAMES!” He whistled and hundred men in suits armed with axes came rushing into the square. Violently they clubbed at those nearby with their axe handles, beating them into submission until the villagers formed a frightened knot in the centre of the square. The Mafia formed up around them so they could not escape. “You WILL do as we say, or you will die!” CubEdln looked around and spied DropBear, the simpleton, staring at the sky with an open mouth and an alarmingly vacant look in his eyes, either unaware or unworried about the situation. He grinned viciously and went over to him. He roughly grabbed the young man and dragged him to the centre of the square. “Surrender your possessions or die. This fool will be the first to realise we are serious.” The lieutenant raised his axe. “Enough!” The old shepherd, who rarely spoke, stood up. Everyone turned to stare at him in astonishment. He was an old man, his face wrinkled and weather-beaten. He bore a long white staff, with intricate, incomprehensible patterns carved on its surface. His long white hair was tied together at the waist with a simple thread of wool. He was short and lean and surely more than four-score years of age, but there was glint of steel in his eye and he moved with great purpose through the crowd to the front. “These people are innocents. You demand excise but they have nothing to offer you. Your cruelty will not bring forth riches. You must leave, or you will regret it. There is nothing for you here. Begone.” Foolishness defiantly stared down the aggressors. “HAHA! Who are you to issue ultimatums old man? You are older than the dirt that at our feet, more feeble than a newborn baby and more foolish than a gambler betting his house on a lame horse. Come here so I can teach you a lesson!” CubEdln shoved DropBear’s face into the dirt and advanced on the old man. Foolishness grinned. “So be it.” With a rapid swing the shepherd raised his staff and struck CubEdln a massive blow to the head. The lieutenant staggered and roared with rage as he felt his lifeblood trickle down his brow. A hissing noise came as Foolishness pulled an ancient looking blade from the solid butt of the staff. With one smooth stroke, CubEdln’s head was sent spinning into the air. It landed with his face staring back at the Mafia, screaming silently in horror at his comrades. GMarshal quickly began muttering in a foreign, gutteral tongue. With a wave of his axe and a sharp exclamation, the headless corpse of CubEdln slithered to its feet. It picked up its severed head and placed it back on its shoulders, the face leering grotesquely. A chill covered the ground nearby. “I’m back,” it proclaimed. Foolishness was momentarily stunned. “What foul sorcery is this? This man is dead!” The shepherd tried to cut him down again but to no avail, GMarshal reanimated him immediately. It was clear that for CubEdln to stop coming back to life the shaman had to be eliminated. Foolishness looked to the sky. The birds were circling above him, as they often did while he was in the fields. He had spent much time with the birds, fed them and listened to their song. This time however they were not chattering or warbling, they were squawking angrily. The shepherd smiled and raised his blade, then thrust it violently in the direction of the shaman. The birds formed up and dove directly at GMarshal, pecking, scratching. He cried out as his they rent his face with their talons and broke his concentration for one final, fatal moment. The time was now. Gripping the blade with both hands Foolishness thrust with all his might into the torso of his enemy. The piercing scream that burst forth from him shattered windows around the village. It was a terrible sound, one of pure hatred and anger. As the shaman was dying, the spell animating CubEdln’s corpse was broken and it crumbled to the floor. The bloodied head landed, once again fixing the mob with a hideous stare. The lieutenant would not be getting up again this time. The remaining Mafia members looked at each other, wild-eyed in fear and consternation. The wily old man had torn down the best of them. How could they, mere mortals, defeat this unlikely blademaster? Meanwhile DropBear had been watching wild-eyed and with the fall of the Mafia shaman, he finally knew what he had to do. It was obvious the nice men in suits with the axes belted at their sides were good people. He ran up and stabbed Foolishness in the back, screeching insanely. The shepherd groaned sharply with pain and then disappointment; he had fought off the most dangerous threat the village had ever faced only to be felled by one of those he had risked everything to protect. The Mafia smelled blood and moved in, but they could not break the old shepherd. His blade dancing, they fell in waves before him, their savage war cries punctuated by screams as crimson blood and severed limbs flew in all directions. Seeing him in danger, the villagers finally sprang into action, picking up whatever implements they found close at hand and joined the fray. As more and more of them came to battle they rapidly began to outnumber the invaders. The air was filled with the clash of steel on steel, wood and stone. Finally there came a great cry and the remaining Mafia turned and fled. A great cheer rose up amongst the villagers, only to be abruptly silenced as the old shepherd tottered and fell to the ground. The earth and heavens shuddered with his fall. The red sun set. The infirmary was bursting with the injured, graves were dug on both sides. Children cried over lost parents, dogs howled, the birds were silent and even the pigs were not their usual happy grunting selves. Foolishness, the town hero, had sustained terrible wounds from the fight and could not hold on. He had taken many enemies with him and saved many lives that day. The sobs echoed through the gathering darkness as he spoke his last words. “Do not give up. Even the smallest villager can make a difference. Stay active and stand together. Fight for what you know is right and you cannot fail.” The old shepherd closed his eyes for the final time. For now, his sheep would have to guide themselves. At dusk the remaining Mafia gathered to lick their wounds and attempt to restore their damaged pride. The embarrassing capitulation that day had only hardened their resolve. Their shaman must have led them to this place for a reason. Hidden power lay in this village and they would not cease until it was overcome or enslaved. No pathetic town could stand in their way! If brute strength failed, they would use subterfuge. The town would fear them again. The villagers knew that the Mafia would return in the morning. To spit in the faces of the gangs invited retribution. The tales they had heard of those who had defied the Mafia were chilling, whispered by gossiping housewives to naughty children to get them to sleep at night. Yet here the Mafia were, on the doorstep. The most courageous among them was gone. They were afraid. But they had to stand firm. As rude and simple as it was, they had built their lives in this place, their families, their possessions, their memories. They would give not give them up without a fight. GMarshal the Mafia Shaman is dead. CubEdln the Animated Skeleton is dead. Foolishness the Silent Guardian is dead. DropBear the Verbose Village Idiot is dead. Who amongst the village will stand against the tide? Is the chosen one hiding in your midst, unbeknown even to themselves? Who amongst the Mafia will rain horrors upon these pathetic wretches who dare oppose you? Is the chance at revenge and the promise of glory, riches and women enough to spur you to domination? It is now day 1! You have 48 hours to vote for who is to be lynched! Thank DropBear for the epic day post | ||
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Varpulis
United States2517 Posts
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sinani206
United States1959 Posts
Hello, everyone. | ||
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OriginalName
Canada1140 Posts
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prplhz
Denmark8045 Posts
Baller daypost. So a lot of fresh faces here today and a couple familiar ones too. I am going to bed right now. Would be nice if everybody could say hi so we don't have to wait until 1 hour before deadline before seeing you guys. Also this is gonna be a first but .. Are you going to post a list of different setups like you did for SNMMII or are we left in the dark about that? | ||
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GMarshal
United States22154 Posts
On June 04 2011 11:13 prplhz wrote: Are you going to post a list of different setups like you did for SNMMII or are we left in the dark about that? its a secret ^_^ | ||
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Varpulis
United States2517 Posts
On June 04 2011 11:13 prplhz wrote: Good evening Baller daypost. So a lot of fresh faces here today and a couple familiar ones too. I am going to bed right now. Would be nice if everybody could say hi so we don't have to wait until 1 hour before deadline before seeing you guys. Also this is gonna be a first but .. Are you going to post a list of different setups like you did for SNMMII or are we left in the dark about that? More roles on list, many many more variations. I'm going to guess no. This is a more complex setup. What do you guys think should be a good policy for lurkers? Pressure day 1, or make a note for later while we scumhunt? I've found that day 1 scumhunting is often very hit and miss, and finding a scummy player day 1 is rare. The earlier we weed out the inactive players, the better off we'll be, I think. I've seen too many games that start off great for town but wimper and die once the active townies are all dead, and all we've got left is lurkers and scum. I'd like to avoid this, If possible. | ||
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Varpulis
United States2517 Posts
On June 04 2011 11:18 Varpulis wrote: More roles on list, many many more variations. I'm going to guess no. This is a more complex setup. What do you guys think should be a good policy for lurkers? Pressure day 1, or make a note for later while we scumhunt? I've found that day 1 scumhunting is often very hit and miss, and finding an actual mafia member day 1 is rare. The earlier we weed out the inactive players, the better off we'll be, I think. I've seen too many games that start off great for town but wimper and die once the active townies are all dead, and all we've got left is lurkers and scum. I'd like to avoid this, If possible. EBWOP | ||
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sinani206
United States1959 Posts
So far: 2. youngminii 3. Mataza 4. JeeJee 6. unichan 7. Palmar 8. Kavdragon 9. Hesmyrr 12. stefftastiq | ||
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Hesmyrr
Canada5776 Posts
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sinani206
United States1959 Posts
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Hesmyrr
Canada5776 Posts
Also we are talking about lurking, which is in itself scummy behaviour. We'll just treat them as suspects instead of putting them into new prominent sub-category. Truly inactive will take care of themselves via mod-killed & replacement. Lurkers, well, like I said if they make as least post as they can during the period of d1~d2 that is excellent reason for lynch. I mean the scumminess of lurker will increase proportionally over time. What I want to say is if at the end of day 1 there are one non-mod-kill eligible lurker and one scummy player, we'd get more discussion out of talking about who to lynch rather than gogo irradiate. | ||
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sinani206
United States1959 Posts
I don't understand your last paragraph. Can you rephrase please? | ||
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Varpulis
United States2517 Posts
At this point, I'm tending to agree. I'm currently planning on putting some pressure on the lurkers early on, then focusing on who's actually scummy when there's more to analyze. | ||
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Hesmyrr
Canada5776 Posts
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sinani206
United States1959 Posts
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OriginalName
Canada1140 Posts
On June 04 2011 12:27 Varpulis wrote: He's saying that we'd be better off lynching a scummy player and then looking at who defended/pushed for his lynch depending on his flip than we'd be if we just offed a lurker. At this point, I'm tending to agree. I'm currently planning on putting some pressure on the lurkers early on, then focusing on who's actually scummy when there's more to analyze. At the same time somebody who defends him or pushes said person could be just a bad townie, so once again we come to the conclusion that most D1 lynches are dumb luck. | ||
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