TurksonNear the mountains of ColoradoRegistered Userregular
edited May 2011
Sunday is just a bad day for phalla for me overall. I need to start remembering this in future games I play.
And we could do the whole "I am Spartacus" thing if you want. But only one of us (that would me) has the raw sex appeal of Kirk Douglas.
Tyrion Lannister stumbled through the tunnels beneath the Red Keep, rushing through the pitch darkness without a torch. He was in a hurry to escape King’s Landing altogether. Since the death of the king, then the queen, and then the prince, those who remained in the capitol city grew immensely violent and unruly. They suspected Tyrion next, but he would not allow himself to die at the hands of the mob. At last, the floor of the tunnel began to slope upwards, and a few hundred feet later Tyrion laid hands on a ladder leading to the stables above. He looked about, ensuring there were none following him, then ascended the ladder, as quick as his small limbs would allow. He bumped his head on the wooden trapdoor at the top and winced in surprise, and in fear that someone heard the sound. He waited a moment, then pushed the door open cautiously and climbed out of the hole. Quietly, he lowered the door back into place and turned around...to find a young boy staring back at him. Tyrion paused, uncertain of what to do. As he opened his mouth to speak, perhaps bribe the child, a tall young man stepped into the stables.
“I thought I told you to saddle my m-” he stopped, noticing Tyrion standing there with his mouth still hanging open. “You! The entire town is looking for you, you imp bastard!”
“Listen, my lords, we can work this out! I could bestow upon you more gold than you could ever imagine! Please, let’s just lower our voices!”
But it was too late. “GUARDS! HERE! THE DEVIOUS MADMAN IS HERE!” A group of the city’s goldcloaks looked over, and began to approach. Tyrion knew it was too late. His last hope was to escape. He jumped to the trap door, but the goldcloaks were here, and grabbed him by his cloak as he was descending into the opening.
“Not so fast, my lord! We have several good folk who’d like to see you.”
The shouting had woken some of the townspeople nearby, who were gazing out their windows and coming out into the street to see what the excitement was about. As they spotted the Imp, they began talking excitedly, and soon a small crowd was following the guards to the great square before the Red Keep.
Suddenly, all hell broke loose, as the crowd began throwing stones at Tyrion and his escorts, causing them to back away from the dwarf as he stumbled forward. To no avail, the guards shouted for quiet, and a cease to the stones. They were too late. One of the enraged onlookers had wrenched what looked like a large paving stone from the ground, and charged the Imp. The last thought Tyrion had was, “My, that thing looks as big as my hea-” then blackness.
Elsewhere in the city, Eddard Stark was sleeping soundly in his solar. After spending the evening poring over various tomes, exhaustion took over him unexpectedly, and he never even rose from his chair. Who knew that he would never rise from it again? The cloaked man had knocked out the guards at the door - just a small amount of a certain herb that grows far to the north beyond the Wall, enough to put the imbiber into a deep sleep only to wake up several hours later. The man climbed the stairs silently, thinking how much easier it was to pass quietly over stone - far easier than dried leaves and plants. He pushed open Eddard’s door, and spotted his head over the back of his chair. Little did Benjen realize that Eddard was the Hand now, or the night’s events might have gone very differently. As it was, he imagined it was Tyrion Lannister in that chair, propped on some cushions perhaps to make him seem taller. With this imagine in mind, he pulled a thin strap of hide from the pocket of his cloak, and stepped to the back of the chair. “This is for all those you murdered,” Benjen whispered, as he pulled the strap across his victim’s throat. There was a short struggle before Eddard finally relented, slumping backwards as his hands fell from their struggle at his neck. Only then did Benjen cross before the chair, to gaze upon his brother’s face. He let out a cry of distress as he recoiled in surprise and dismay. “What have I done?” He fell to his knees before the body, his face falling into his hands, and began to weep. Moments later, the noise of a crowd outside woke him to his senses. He realized all over again what he had done, and climbed slowly to his feet. Ever so quietly, he made for the door and descended the tower, exited, and pulled up the hood of his cloak, disappearing into the night.
Meanwhile, Rodrik Cassell was mourning the death of his son, his countrymen, and his king, and he was doing a fine job of it. He spilled out of the inn, reeking of the trifecta of wine, mead, and ale. Jaime Lannister stood in the shadows at the corner of the inn, his sword already drawn as he saw Rodrik’s approach. At this moment, a man all in black appeared behind Rodrik, and put a dagger to his throat, whispering something in his ear. Jaime thought for a moment, and realized he could easily kill them both, under the guise of saving Stark’s bannerman. He stepped out and was spotted, but the man in black had already made his decision. He sliced Rodrik’s throat ear to ear, and dropped him, gurgling, to the dirt. Jaime charged, not wanting to be known and recognized, and the men fought. The man in black was trained well, and while not attempting to return Jaime’s offense, was able to block every thrust and swing. Jaime pressed on, to his folly, resulting in him tripping over a loose stone and falling to a kneel. The man in black wasted no time, turning around and fleeing. Jaime gave chase, until he turned a corner in pursuit to find a completely empty street, devoid of all except a ragged beggar in tattered brown garb lying in the gutter. Jaime looked around quickly, ensuring no one was around to see him, before hastily retreating.
Far to the north, Jon Snow was finishing his watch on the Wall. Wearily, he descended the massive stairway back to Castle Black below. He was quite frozen through from the wind and the night chill, and so he decided to stop by the great hall for a cup of warmed wine before retiring to his chambers. He passed a fellow he did not recognize on his way in, exchanging pleasantries before stepping to the hearth. The hall was empty except for himself. He grabbed a flagon, conveniently placed at the end of the table nearest the fire, filled it from the kettle that was already being warmed, and sat on a bench with a sigh. He took a sip from the cup, noting the flavor was the tiniest bit different than usual. He didn’t think too hard on it, figuring it was merely prepared by a new kitchen boy. A few moments later the glass was drained, and he stood up, seemingly too quickly, for the room was spinning quite rapidly. He placed his hand on the table to steady himself, but it seemed the table had moved on him. He fell ungracefully sideways, slamming his head on the stone floor. He tried sitting up, but suddenly his limbs felt as if they weighed far more than normal. He heard the creak of the door as it opened, and the man he had passed on his way in stepped through, pulling back his cloak to reveal the grinning face, and the dark, mirthful eyes. Jon’s eyes would have opened in surprise, if they weren’t blurring and fading. He managed a weak, “Yooouu...” as the last breath sighed from his lungs. The stranger grabbed the flagon and cup alike, tossing them both into the hearth and destroying all evidence.
As dawn broke the next morning, Arya Stark woke shivering in her bed. It seems the poison she was fed was not enough to kill her. kuhlmeye(Arya Stark) has awakened.
The Deceased: stever777(Tyrion Lannister) - Elected to die by the masses cj iwakura(Eddard Stark) - Strangled to death Spudge(Ser Rodrik Cassel) - Throat cut and (would have been) Impaled upon a golden sword SimBen(Jon Snow) - Killed by poison
Well, I really though cj was a baddie. *sigh* But, at least we got another Lannister out. So, we need to find Jaime and the SK. I've not heard from anyone yet this morning, but once I do, I'll pass on the goods.
Well, I really though cj was a baddie. *sigh* But, at least we got another Lannister out. So, we need to find Jaime and the SK. I've not heard from anyone yet this morning, but once I do, I'll pass on the goods.
Well, I really though cj was a baddie. *sigh* But, at least we got another Lannister out. So, we need to find Jaime and the SK. I've not heard from anyone yet this morning, but once I do, I'll pass on the goods.
Posts
Baddie mcBadderson - Stever
they don't it be like it is but it do
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
Everyone's going to vote for Stever despite what I do, sorry Stever
I voted for alt_raven on day 1, you may notice.
!stever
(Shame, cause Tyrion's the only good one.)
Why would I?
I'm protected, the number of mafia are dwindling, I have evidence on my side, and I'm not worried about the vote.
Of course there is risk, but at this point in the game there was no apreciable reason to keep my identity secret.
Stever777 is lying.
The shocking twist!
!Stever777 is a liar, and is hiding behind my name. I'm willing to bet I was seered by the mafia.
Fair enough, just something I wasn't sure on is all.
!stever777
My mailbox is open to helpful SK's or neutrals.
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
So that's what it takes to get you to vote without being reminded? I'll keep this in mind.
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
but it would take a lot of cock-gazing to prove who it is.
Some friends would like to hear what you have to say before I die.
:winky:
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
And we could do the whole "I am Spartacus" thing if you want. But only one of us (that would me) has the raw sex appeal of Kirk Douglas.
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
As opposed to... just normally being evil and being voted out?
Well, given how easy it is to out people in named games...
That said, he also shouldn't have rolled over so easily about it. Oh well, I'm not complaining about the results.
(compared to previous disasters)
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
But !stever777
Nice try, honky.
Those Phallillagers are no friends of yours'!!
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
SK's or neutrals share what you know
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
“I thought I told you to saddle my m-” he stopped, noticing Tyrion standing there with his mouth still hanging open. “You! The entire town is looking for you, you imp bastard!”
“Listen, my lords, we can work this out! I could bestow upon you more gold than you could ever imagine! Please, let’s just lower our voices!”
But it was too late. “GUARDS! HERE! THE DEVIOUS MADMAN IS HERE!” A group of the city’s goldcloaks looked over, and began to approach. Tyrion knew it was too late. His last hope was to escape. He jumped to the trap door, but the goldcloaks were here, and grabbed him by his cloak as he was descending into the opening.
“Not so fast, my lord! We have several good folk who’d like to see you.”
The shouting had woken some of the townspeople nearby, who were gazing out their windows and coming out into the street to see what the excitement was about. As they spotted the Imp, they began talking excitedly, and soon a small crowd was following the guards to the great square before the Red Keep.
Suddenly, all hell broke loose, as the crowd began throwing stones at Tyrion and his escorts, causing them to back away from the dwarf as he stumbled forward. To no avail, the guards shouted for quiet, and a cease to the stones. They were too late. One of the enraged onlookers had wrenched what looked like a large paving stone from the ground, and charged the Imp. The last thought Tyrion had was, “My, that thing looks as big as my hea-” then blackness.
Elsewhere in the city, Eddard Stark was sleeping soundly in his solar. After spending the evening poring over various tomes, exhaustion took over him unexpectedly, and he never even rose from his chair. Who knew that he would never rise from it again? The cloaked man had knocked out the guards at the door - just a small amount of a certain herb that grows far to the north beyond the Wall, enough to put the imbiber into a deep sleep only to wake up several hours later. The man climbed the stairs silently, thinking how much easier it was to pass quietly over stone - far easier than dried leaves and plants. He pushed open Eddard’s door, and spotted his head over the back of his chair. Little did Benjen realize that Eddard was the Hand now, or the night’s events might have gone very differently. As it was, he imagined it was Tyrion Lannister in that chair, propped on some cushions perhaps to make him seem taller. With this imagine in mind, he pulled a thin strap of hide from the pocket of his cloak, and stepped to the back of the chair. “This is for all those you murdered,” Benjen whispered, as he pulled the strap across his victim’s throat. There was a short struggle before Eddard finally relented, slumping backwards as his hands fell from their struggle at his neck. Only then did Benjen cross before the chair, to gaze upon his brother’s face. He let out a cry of distress as he recoiled in surprise and dismay. “What have I done?” He fell to his knees before the body, his face falling into his hands, and began to weep. Moments later, the noise of a crowd outside woke him to his senses. He realized all over again what he had done, and climbed slowly to his feet. Ever so quietly, he made for the door and descended the tower, exited, and pulled up the hood of his cloak, disappearing into the night.
Meanwhile, Rodrik Cassell was mourning the death of his son, his countrymen, and his king, and he was doing a fine job of it. He spilled out of the inn, reeking of the trifecta of wine, mead, and ale. Jaime Lannister stood in the shadows at the corner of the inn, his sword already drawn as he saw Rodrik’s approach. At this moment, a man all in black appeared behind Rodrik, and put a dagger to his throat, whispering something in his ear. Jaime thought for a moment, and realized he could easily kill them both, under the guise of saving Stark’s bannerman. He stepped out and was spotted, but the man in black had already made his decision. He sliced Rodrik’s throat ear to ear, and dropped him, gurgling, to the dirt. Jaime charged, not wanting to be known and recognized, and the men fought. The man in black was trained well, and while not attempting to return Jaime’s offense, was able to block every thrust and swing. Jaime pressed on, to his folly, resulting in him tripping over a loose stone and falling to a kneel. The man in black wasted no time, turning around and fleeing. Jaime gave chase, until he turned a corner in pursuit to find a completely empty street, devoid of all except a ragged beggar in tattered brown garb lying in the gutter. Jaime looked around quickly, ensuring no one was around to see him, before hastily retreating.
Far to the north, Jon Snow was finishing his watch on the Wall. Wearily, he descended the massive stairway back to Castle Black below. He was quite frozen through from the wind and the night chill, and so he decided to stop by the great hall for a cup of warmed wine before retiring to his chambers. He passed a fellow he did not recognize on his way in, exchanging pleasantries before stepping to the hearth. The hall was empty except for himself. He grabbed a flagon, conveniently placed at the end of the table nearest the fire, filled it from the kettle that was already being warmed, and sat on a bench with a sigh. He took a sip from the cup, noting the flavor was the tiniest bit different than usual. He didn’t think too hard on it, figuring it was merely prepared by a new kitchen boy. A few moments later the glass was drained, and he stood up, seemingly too quickly, for the room was spinning quite rapidly. He placed his hand on the table to steady himself, but it seemed the table had moved on him. He fell ungracefully sideways, slamming his head on the stone floor. He tried sitting up, but suddenly his limbs felt as if they weighed far more than normal. He heard the creak of the door as it opened, and the man he had passed on his way in stepped through, pulling back his cloak to reveal the grinning face, and the dark, mirthful eyes. Jon’s eyes would have opened in surprise, if they weren’t blurring and fading. He managed a weak, “Yooouu...” as the last breath sighed from his lungs. The stranger grabbed the flagon and cup alike, tossing them both into the hearth and destroying all evidence.
As dawn broke the next morning, Arya Stark woke shivering in her bed. It seems the poison she was fed was not enough to kill her.
kuhlmeye(Arya Stark) has awakened.
The Deceased:
stever777(Tyrion Lannister) - Elected to die by the masses
cj iwakura(Eddard Stark) - Strangled to death
Spudge(Ser Rodrik Cassel) - Throat cut and (would have been) Impaled upon a golden sword
SimBen(Jon Snow) - Killed by poison
Oldmanken... :twisted:
ooOOooOoOOOooOOoo
The Black Hole of Cygnus X-1
they don't it be like it is but it do
Or is that just the generic Lannister kill? Pretty sure that's it as Jaime would be the likely Mafia vig in this scenario.
Honestly so did I.
Oh well.
Who's left?
e: Cargo Culture, Mr. Defecation, Matev, 101, thorgot, CaptainPlanet82, Drez, Turkson, SeGaTai, oldmanken, Spoit, Raakam
Steam
And me! I'm still alive!