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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

WEREWOLF HO-O!


Gnarlitch

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"We need work together; stop killing now!"

 

Amanda rests a gentle hand on Cat's shoulder. "Catling, I know it must be difficult for you to understand us... I do think you haven't been with white men long enough to be able to."

 

She sighs, looking at the plains in the dusk. "We are suspicious by nature, and some of us harbor very hard feelings. Most of us just appear to be rude, aggressive... but some are like that in heart. We are always trying to sort out these last ones. It must be some kind of survival instinct."

 

Cat looks at Amanda, frowning. Amanda continues, "You're right, young cat... we need to work together. But unfortunately, I don't think you can make people stop killing. Because we will always kill at least to defend ourselves and those we love. White men are like that."

 

Amanda looks at Nate, who's just coming back to the wagon and, squeezing Cat's shoulder lightly, leaves her to greet her husband with a gentle hug.

 

"Nate... I was so worried... "

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The door to Gunthers caravan slammed open and he strode swiftly over to Abraham.

 

"You accuse me? You say I don't speak english just because I choose not to go around accusing without proof?!" With one swift movement he grabbed the mans collar in one fisted and lifted him into the air, powerful muscles rippling. As angry as he was, he made sure he didn't hurt the man.

 

"Will you accuse the child of being an enemy because she doesn't speak english clearly?! You spineless little wretch, if I was less of the person I was I would resort to accusing you!"

 

With a gesture of profound disgust and dissapointment he let the man drop. His gaze was full of contempt as he looked at the people who had agreed with him, before he turned and tried to work on another puzzle that was his hobby. He hoped that by solving them he would be able to work out who the enemies were.

 

OOC: I hadn't typed anything 'cause I only just got an email through saying someone had posted a reply. Damned odd...

Edited by Solivagus
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OOC stuff:

OTOH, I liked Tangy's story about the sickness sweeping the train and laying us up for a week.

Well thank you.

Gnarlitch has been so good about being historical, accurate, fun, real, etc, that I thought I'd put my own small attempt in.

And I liked how a bunch of people used the hedge maze two games ago, too.

 

wow i live on even in death, someone might want to let Vahktang know i'm dead.

Hence the request for the scorecard at the end of every death.

And I make that request in _so_ many games.

Guess I got to start asking during sign up or something.

 

 

OOC: I hadn't typed anything 'cause I only just got an email through saying someone had posted a reply. Damned odd...

You don't check the board where you're playing a game every day?

Talk about damned odd.

 

Has anyone else noticed Abraham has not said one word out loud accusing anyone?

No?

I have.

You people are too nice to accuse in public.

Abraham is too nice to say bad things about his neighbors.

Hence the OOC.

 

Good to see you posting Solivagus

I enjoyed you latest.

 

More later,

 

Vahktang

Edited by Vahktang
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Abraham looked around the area to make certain that there was no children or womenfolk around and gave in to the luxery of cursing.

Long and hard, with the experience of a sailor that he was at one time.

He stopped well before anyone else came withing earshot with a certain amount of relief.

A broken axle.

A wheel he had a spare for, as he had already gone through one spare. Even two he had the spare and had already mended the broken wheel just in case. It would have lasted until the next town.

But a broken axle could strand him here.

Not to do anything now but try his best to repair it. And other things.

"Adam?"

"Yes, pa?"

"Take that rawhide sheet we have, the largest pot and start to soak it."

"Right away, pa."

"Eric?"

"Yes, pa?"

"You and Joe go find a log, longer than me, strong without many branches. When you find it, come back here."

"OK, pa. Come on, you little."

"I'm not little," protests Joe.

'Now to try and mend some fences, too,' Abraham thought.

He walks over to the German's encampment, taking off his hat and holding in both hands in front of him.

"Mr. Gunther."

"Just Gunther, Cartwright."

"Gunther, then. And you may call me Ben, if you a mind to."

"All right then, Ben. What is it that you want," Gunther says, noting the gesture of 'hat in hands.'

"My axle is broken. I have a mind to mend it so that I can reach Cheyenne and buy a new one. I need help."

"What is the plan," Gunther says warily.

"Lever up the wagon, place stones under it to keep it in place, and tilt it. Set the axle, place wet rawhide on the break. Let it dry in the sun, and it should keep until we hit Cheyenne."

"That will put you all alone a day or more behind the train. We may even have to leave before you can reach town."

"Best I can do."

"I may be able to do better."

"Then I'd be obliged to you."

"We will need at least one more to lever your wagon."

"I was going to ask Mr. Bluett after I left here. Maybe a few other men."

"Goot, goot. I will meet you at your wagon with my tools in a quarter hour."

"Thank you, Gunther."

 

After the job is done and the Cartwright wagon is ready to leave in the morning, Gunther is walking back to his encampment with Nathaniel, who is helping to carry all the tools.

"It occurs to me," says Nathaniel, "that his patch would have worked."

"Yah," says Gunther

"And if he had emptied his wagon, first, he and his boys would have been able to do the job. It just would have taken longer."

"Yah," Gunther said, arriving at his encampment.

"Then his asking for help...," said Nathaniel, putting the tools down where indicated.

"Yah, it was. Good night, Mr. Bluett."

"Good night, Gunther."

And he walks back to his own encampment and family.

 

 

More later,

 

Vahktang

Edited by Vahktang
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OOC: Then again, I hadn't been rude or unfriendly, and Abraham said I was. Strange how that works, isn't it, Vahktang?

 

IC: "Oh Nate... I was so worried," Amanda said.

 

Nathaniel walked to her, and wrapped her in an embrace, and kissed the top of her head. "I know, Amanda... I know."

 

He gently turned his torso slowly back and forth, rocking his wife in a comforting motion, attempting to appear calm and collected. He closed his eyes, and attempted to block out thougths of the possibility of more dying--and the even more terrifying possibility of the next death being Amanda or Rosalie.

 

But he wouldn't let that happen.

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OOC: Then again, I hadn't been rude or unfriendly, and Abraham said I was. Strange how that works, isn't it, Vahktang?

That people react to OOC statements IC?

Yeah, that's strange.

 

From your character description on page one, adapted from the sign up description:

He has a slight temper, and it's best not to cross him. He makes friends slowly and is slow to doubt them because of the loyalty he exerts and expects in return.

From my owns posts:

'That fellow Nathaniel seems an odd fellow.

And

"No, now I don't have anything wrong to say about Mr. Bluett. He's just not a very friendly sort. He can associate with whom he pleases.

Now, where exactly did I say you were rude or unfriendly?

I did say you weren't the friendly sort, but that is different from unfriendly. And it is because of your description.

And you're (I'm) coming around.

See post above.

 

Good playing with you.

And if you're the wolf, you're doing a damn fine job.

 

More later,

 

Vahktang

Edited by Vahktang
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when Nate and Ben fall asleep that night they have a rather odd dream. They find themselves in a futuristic place surrounded by a crowd of people in stadium like seats. They are in a roped off square and are wearing short pants in bright colors and are wearing strange, wel padded, bright red gloves on their hands. A bell rings and they advance on each other and begin to box. They punch and jab, dance around, duck and dodge....and beat each other bloody. When the bell rings again, they stop. Jab steps into the middle of the ring and asks, "Well boys, have you had enough yet?"
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After the funeral for Charlotte, the wagon train moves on. The next day they arrive in Cheyenne, Wyoming, a fairly rough cow town. They stay the night, long enough for Adam Cartwright to get in a fight with some locals while drunk in the bar. His father pays the fine with the local sherriff and promises to kep him confined in the wagon until they are well out of the area.

 

Two days later the land begins to rise as the trails turns a bit northward and heads into the first real mountains that the travelers have seen thus far. The terrain is rugged and rocky and the sage brush begins to give way to scrub oak and more cedar. Mixed in is the occasional pine. Also of note is a lovely bright red flower found growing here and there. It seems a rather intriguing flower, because, as Gunther points out, the bright red portions are actually leaves and the actual blossoms are hidden deeper inside the plant. None of the party seem to recognize it and finally they ask thier guides about it. Blue Eagle then relates a story, and old indian legend.

 

He tells the story of a young indian boy who was very skilled at painting in the manner of his people. One night the boy had a dream. In this dream he found the most perfect white doe skin on which he was to paint a master work. The next day the boy came across a trader who had the very same white doe skin he had seen in his dream. So, he offered to trade for it. The old man who had then skin refused to trade for anything that the boy offered. Finally, the boy was frustrated, having offered all he possessed to trade for the skin, and the old man had refused him yet again. "The skin is not for sale, young one," he said, "for it is valuable beyond price. However, I will make a trade with you. I will give you this skin if you will promise me that you will use it to paint your very best work."

 

The boy was amzed, and quite rapidly gave his word. That night he once again had a dream about the skin, and was shown a scene to paint on it. The next day he left on a journey, not knowing exactly where he went, but knowing he would get there. Eventually he found just the perfect spot, a scene he must protray on this skin, but in a style he had never painted before. That evening as the sun was getting ready to set he prepared his paints, making the brightest and richest colors he knew how to make. he then used them to paint the skin in all the colors and beuty he saw in that nights sunset.

 

The next morning, he awoke to find that his perfectly painted skin was missing. He was distraught beyond description. Then, he looked out upon the scene he had painted the night before, and found it transformed. Now, instead of bright green gras and brown soil against a blue sky, the pararie had taken on the colors of the sunset. The field was like it was on fire, the flowers were wo bright, in all the amazing colors seen in the setting sun.

 

When Blue Eagle had finished his story, the travellers were unsure how to react. So, mainly they mumbled vague platitudes and moved on. Only young Cat seemed truely appreciative, saying, "Thankyou for that wonderful story, grandfather. I will remember it always." She then took the time to look more closely at the flower and looked to see the various shades.

 

As the trail climbed ever higher, the animals struggled more and more with the weight of the wagons. Soon everyone was walking instead of riding, and, eventually some of the families had to discard some of their more "cherished" items to lighten the load. A grandfather clock may be a beautiful item and a valuable keepsake, however, it will not feed you nor keep you wark on a cold night. The side of the trail was literally covered with various discarded items that were too heavy to be hauled over the summit.

 

At noon on the fourth day of the ascent the lead wagon crested the summit of Laramie Pass. Amazingly no serious injury had been sustained in the climb, Yet now came the descent, the more perilous part of the mountain pass. yet, once again the group was lucky, having only minor injuries when one wagon broke a wheel and rolled. Near the end of the descent the Cartwright wagon broke its rear axle, but with a bit of teamwork it was quickly repaired. Soon, only a matter of three days, the wagaon train finished the descent from the pass and pulled into Fort Laramie where they would rest for a few days and reprovision.

 

Amanda WHERE'S CAT?! Has anyone seen Cat?

 

Amazingly, no one remembers seeing Cat for many days. In fact, the last time anyone can remember seeing her was just after Blue Eagle's story, almost a week's travel to the other side of the pass! With regret that they were unable to do more, the grop reported the missing girl to the Fort Commander and then moved on.

 

OOPS! those children can be so annoying for how small they are but so darned quiet when they want to be. It sure is easy to misplace them! :P Katz was an innocent slaughter. Anyone think they know who is a wolf? You have 48 hours to decide. No abstain votes allowed this round. Next major site is Fort Caspar. The day phase will end at Independence Rock, a couple of days later, on the Fourth of July. Feel free to include these sites in your RP. :D

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AAAAARRRRGGGGH!!!!

 

WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE TRYING TO DO TO ME?!

 

*the mod's head starts spinning around and around and then explodes into a million pieces, killing everyone near.*

 

And, as far as your characters are concerned...A giant herd of rabid buffalo come charging out of no where and trample the entire group, followed by the largest tornado anyone has ever seen destroying everything into such small pieces the the indian tribe that comes by the next day can't find any sign that people were ever there! :huh:

OOC: MWUHAHAHAHA!!! NOW YOU KNOW HOW IT FEELS!!!

 

Ahem... heh... But it IS quite fun seeing the two site's "Styles" when it comes to the game.

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OOC

 

I have the same question as Merelas, Gnarly... maybe Nate and Amanda have just caught a terrible cold or something, and are unable to leave their wagon? And Rosalie has to stay there caring for them??? :rolleyes: (We need an :evilgrin: ...)

 

Merelas, Dean was referring to the difference in style when we play WW here and in another board... if you want to check, go to K&C Games Forum. Here we privilege the story, there it's more the game aspect :P

Edited by Tanuchan
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OOC: What happens if they just don't show up?

that will be decided on a case by case basis... :demon:

 

was writing an explanation here, but it turned into a bit of a rant, and so as to preserve the story flow here, I moved it to the Werewolf Q+A thread.

Edited by Gnarlitch
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Amanda looks at the mountains behind her, somewhat lost in thoughts.

"WHERE'S CAT?! Has anyone seen Cat?"

 

Amanda looks around, finally settling down by her wagon. She hasn't seen the girl for some days, but she had always supposed she was with one or other of the settlers. Cat never stoppped long in one place, and her only habit had been that, while on the plains, she'd always stop at her wagon with a rabbit or two every morning. And occasionaly slept in their wagon.

 

While in the pass, she'd been so intent on her own family and her wagon, she never once thought that self-sufficient girl could be in trouble. Cat had other friends in the wagon trail...

 

She feels a pang of guilt. She should have kept an eye on Cat. And Nate seems to feel the same, as he gently holds her while she tells her story to the Fort Commander.

"Amanda, stop that." Nate presses her shoulders with gentle hands. "She wasn't really ours to care. She made that clear, that she would go wherever she wanted. We protected her when we could. No more than that."

 

"I... liked Cat. She was a wild girl, but there was some different wisdom in her eyes. She was so upset because of fights among us all... she didn't really understand our ways. I, and also Rosalie, wanted her to be again part of our world."

 

"I know. But it didn't happen. Forget, dearest. She probably just decided that we were too different. She probably left. Maybe she's with that odd indian who told us the legend."

 

"Or she could have been..." Amanda catches herself, unwilling to voice her thoughts.

 

"She could have been driven away from us. By someone who didn't like her... But she was a *child*. There wasn't anyone here who could have hated a child, even a somewhat queer one..."

Edited by Tanuchan
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OOC: How the crap are we supposed to find an IC reason to vote of someone because a little girl disappeared, and who was flighty anyways? If she'd been found with a knife in her back, that would be one thing... but like Amanda said for me, I don't know. Ah well. I suppose I'll make the best of it.

 

BIC: "Or she could have been what, Amanda?"

 

Amanda looked up at him, still sad from the loss of the child. She had truly cared for the girl, and Nathaniel could see that. Perhaps it was wrong of him to silence her.

 

"She might have been hurt... or frightened off by someone."

 

Nathaniel looked down, thinking for a moment. He examined his wife's face for a moment, then kissed her briefly on the cheek and turned, saying "I'll be back soon, dear," over his shoulder.

 

Nathaniel walked up the line of wagons (he never was much good on a horse, but he had inherited his father's swift, businesslike stride that served him well), finally finding the one he wanted. He knocked on the side, and called in, "Abraham? If you could join me for a moment, I need a word."

 

After a few moments of scuffling within the wagon (they were small, and it made it hard to get about sometimes, especially with children who were good at getting in the way), Mr. Cartwright emerged, and stood before him.

 

"Mr. Cartwright, I hate to do this, but I feel it is in the best interests of the wagon train. That girl Cat has disappeared, and I believe that there needs to be some form of justice. I know that this is crude, but we don't exactly have enough time or the resources to set up an investigation and courtroom proper.

 

"I'm afraid I have to accuse you of the murders that have taken place so far, as well as Cat's dissapearance. It was your wagon that Jake Burrow died from, and that would've made it very easy for you to tamper with the ropes that eventually caused his death. In addition, I believe that you scared off Cat because she was the one who started the doubt against you at the last meeting which almost blackened your name, and you wouldn't have any more of that.

 

"And even if you aren't guilty... I don't exactly like the idea of sending out someone who is willing to place the blame on someone else if only to get it off their own head."

 

OOC: I don't think we should be able to hide behind the "I accused him out of character, so it doesn't count" thing... but if that's the way it works, then I've provided other reasons there as well which I think are sufficient to justify a Vote against Vahktang/Abraham Cartwright.

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Umh, scorecard, please.

OOC:

You're doing fine, Merelas.

And 'he voted for me so I'm voting for him' is a nearly valid excuse in this game, almost as common as 'he voted first, so he must be the wolf' excuse.

(Glad I'm not doing my first choice character: Marion Wayne. He would have punched out Nathaniel.)

We need to get a wolf this time or next time or they win.

 

IC:

Abraham looks stunned at Nathanial.

"Well, Nathaniel, very stand up of you to say that. But out here when you say a thing like that to a man it's a good idea to have a gun on your hip. Like mine," he says, showing off his colt revolver in it's holster.

"That way, if you are talking to a guilty man and they decide to shoot you, you can pull your own gun and shoot back."

Nathaniel looks shaken, then back at the other wagon and witnesses, all too far away to help.

"Same with an innocent man with a hair trigger that doesn't take well to a false accusation," Ben says, slightly harshly.

Nathaniel barely keeps from paling, but stands his ground.

Ben smiles.

"Fortunately, I'm neither. Now, just go back to your encampment, keep you accusations to yourself, don't try these spurious arguements out on anyone else, or:

 

You'll be Sorry."

 

Because you'll be accusing a man innocent of these crimes."

 

OOC: I'll vote tomorrow.

 

More later,

 

Vahktang

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Blue Eagle, one of your indian guides the entire trip, steps up and speaks. "Me no think that girl left because of story me told. Me also no think she wandered off. Me think she killed. Me watching carefully for killers here in wagon train."

 

He walks off glaring at everyone in general.

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SCORE CARD

 

The Living

Tanny~~Amanda Tanisson~~

Elwen~~Rosalie Tanisson~~

Vahktang~~Abraham Cartwright~~

Jammeez~~Gertrude "Trudy" Young McAllister~~

Merelas~~Nathaniel Bluett~~

DeantheAdequate~~"Blondie"~~

Degenero~~Markus Black~~

Solivagus~~Gunther~~

 

The Dead

Eyremon~~Eric Smith~~gunned down by debt collectors, first lynching

MeThinksYouFoolish~~ Jake Burrow~~drowned/smashed on rocks, SEER, first slaughter

Lady Celes Crusader~~Charlotte Gainsbourg~~snake bit, HUNTER, second lynching

Katzaniel~~Cat~~murdered in secret, second slaughter

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Something inside of Gunthers mind snapped. The loss of someone who had been a puzzle he had never fully worked out sent his once intelligent mind reeling in ten different directions. His arm rose, shaking slightly with the conflicting emotions inside of him. To everyones surprise his hand came up pointinf to Amanda Tanisson.

 

"You killed her! You killed them all!"

 

OOC: Based on a dice roll.

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Amanda pales in fury when she hears of the way Ben Cartwright has reacted to Nathaniel's accusations.

 

"So he thinks he can humiliate people because they are city-born? That's not a character trait I approve in anyone!"

 

Then, behind her, she listens to a heavily-accented voice shouting her name, and turns to find Gunther accusing her. "You killed her! You killed them all!"

 

Nathaniel is suddenly at her side, ready to jump onto the blacksmith, but Amanda holds his arm. "No, Nate."

 

He looks at her, and she shakes her head. "He's out of his mind. Look at his eyes. He had some attachment to Cat, she did tell me about the puzzles he gave her... His mind snapped."

 

Amanda turns again towards the general direction of the Cartwright's wagon, calming down and whispering to herself, "Cartwright could have been outraged by accusations, but threatening an unarmed man isn't helping his claims of innocence. Is that how a person shows that he's trustful and may help others in the wilderness? Is that what we expect in a neighbor?"

 

She sighs."Nate, I think you're right. Cartwright did have the means... and the temper."

 

OOC Vote for Abraham Cartwright/Vahktang

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"... you'd best be sure you have a gun on your hip, like mine."

 

Nathaniel pales slightly, knowing no one will be able to reach them in time.

 

"Go ahead, shoot me. They'll just all know that I was right."

 

OOC: Vote stands.

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"... you'd best be sure you have a gun on your hip, like mine."

 

Nathaniel pales slightly, knowing no one will be able to reach them in time.

 

"Go ahead, shoot me. They'll just all know that I was right."

 

OOC: Vote stands.

"They'll know that you're a tenderfoot.

"You don't know what life is like out here.

"But that's not a reason to kill a man.

"If he stays a tenderfoot, he'll get around to making his own death. As if death needs help out here."

 

 

Later:

Jebidiah Morgan comes up to Ben Cartwight, very cross.

"A word with you Mr. Cartwright."

Abraham looks up from one of his unending chores and sees the serious face of the train leader.

"Yes, Mr. Morgan, over here please."

The two go away from the train, away from sight of everyone. Ben notices that Morgan does have a shooting iron on his hip.

"I'll come straight out, Cartwright. Did you threaten Mr. Bluett? Because I will not have that on my train."

"And I wouldn't blame you a bit, but, no, I did not threaten him, Mr. Morgan. My hand was nowhere near my gun at any time. But I did give him a strong warning. Didn't take though, I don't see a gun on his hip yet. Brave, yes. Foolish, certainly. But he does love his family."

"I've a mind to throw you both out, you and Bluett, Mr. Cartwright, for being disruptive."

"Well, Mr. Morgan, that's your right, of course. And me and my boys would probably turn out OK. But you'd be sentencing those folks to a terrible fate. They are resourceful, and smart, but I don't think they have the gumption to make it in the west. What, one in three return to the east? I may be surprised, though."

 

OOC:

Now, are we having so much fun with the Cartwrights vs the Bluetts that we're missing someone? Blondie, for example, flying under the radar?

 

 

 

More later,

 

Vahktang

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Hey i know you all dont like the dead correcting your mistakes but when someone screws up my own death, it can't be ignored. People seem to have not even noticed my death, first they dont realize im dead, then they dont realize i was the seer then they get my death wrong. Dear Mr. Merelas if you would care to observe my death a second time you will realize that it was not Mr. Vahktang's wagon that lead to my death, it was Mr. Jones. It was probably a bit confusing due to the fact that he was made up on the spot NCP but since both him and his son and yours truly died, it would be nice if you noticed. plus their wagon was destroyed making it a bit difficult for Mr. Vahktang to travel if it had indeed been his. The next person to dishonor my death with incorrect statements i will be forced to challenge to a duel and i must warn you that you'll have a hard time killing me....again

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