Waterbrick Down

"Yes this does and I thank ya kindly for taking the time to address it," Skrall replied to the librarian. With a now firmer grasp on his race's history the ogre once again exited Heroica Hall this time with a somewhat more cheerful outlook. "So it appears the oppression against my people is indeed beginning to lift at long last," Skrall chuckled to himself, "well I'm glad I put away the highway robbery business before it got me hung."

Skrall entered the Library, he had been unable to find an open field to practice his archery, but he had contented himself with exploring a little more of the city scape. Skrall attempted to walk quietly across the floorboards of the library but to no avail given his girth. He had seen few books in his lifetime to begin with, much less such a collection as this hall boasted. He recalled how his middling siblings had described the library at the university at which they were taking night classes and he knew there was much to be gained from such a concentration of knowledge and history compiled in one room. He was afraid of what he may discover here, he had based his entire life on the instances of oppression he had witnessed performed against his own kind and thus felt that all those that he had robbed fully deserved it. Skrall braced himself for what was to come and addressed the strange ape-like individual that was standing by a nearby desk with an inkwell. "Excuse me sir, my name is Skrall. I am unable to read any of these here books, but as you appear to be an individual who seems to be well acquainted with these surroundings I was wonderin' if ya could tell me a little more about the events that proceeded the Orcish invasion as it concerns the orc race as a whole. I've heard many a different account both from my political-leaning siblin's as well as those in my family who followed shall we say a more "academic" path. On the one hand I get political-hatred rhetoric and on the other the philosophical musin's of, "Whether tis right or wrong to follow one's natural tendencies..." and other such blather as to whether we of the orc race are only good at butcherin' things."

Skrall had been listening in on the other conversations when the dwarf Barur approached him after Skrall thought was a much needed rest. Skrall braced himself for what would come next, if he knew dwarfs they were as stubborn in their opinions as a slab of granite. However the dwarf actually began to apologize, "I must apologize for last night's words to you.I was weary from my travels..." After he had finished Skrall realized that he also had misjudged the new travler. "I thank ya for yar apology master dwarf, all is fogivn'. May ya find success in yar travels about the town today," Skrall replied. As the dwarf left the hall Skrall pondered to himself, "Well now, that is one of the most courageous fellows I have met on my travels. Anyone can boast in the power of his arm, or the sharpness of his wit, but a hero willin' to humble himself before others shows a courage of a far deeper and more true nature..." Skrall decided that he also could use a little fresh air and bid the conversing heroes a fairwell for the time, perhaps he could find an open field in which to practice his archery, there surely had to be some shooting ranges or training fields in a city this size. So with that Skrall packed away his pipe, shouldered his enormous bow and walked out the door of Heroica Hall. "Who knows," he thought "by the time I return, perhaps some new employers will have advertised the need for my services"

Oh dear, or would that be oh deer Again Hinckley absolute genius, as much as I can't wait for the end, I want these humorous conclusions to go on and on. Well done.

Skrall let the dwarf aside as he lit his pipe and allowed him to muse in what seemed rather deep contemplation. The dwarf struck him as somewhat moody but Skrall figured that so was he after his long journey to the hall. He was rather put out by the dwarf's assumption that he was purely motivated by greed however, though Skrall consented that he had probably not heard about his entire past, nor had Skrall wished to delve very deep into the things he had seen growing up. He was almost twice as old as any orc that most were likely to meet due to their reckless lifestyle but Skrall's age had come at the price of many bitter memories. He remembered the countless times his family had had to move because near by townsfolk had pillaged their small settlement with fire and pitchforks with shouts of "monster" and "animals", he remembered the time he had been exploring the woods with his cousins and how they had been taken away in chains to row on the massive ships that the sea merchants traveled to and from heroica within, he remembered the countless lumber camps he had skirted around in his early days where hundreds of the orc kind were employed as slave labor, He remembered each and everyone of the snob nosed elf or mage he had robbed of their riches, yet kept alive, that he might bring what little comfort he could to the down-trodden among his kind. Skrall knew his peoples heritage how they had invaded these lands in their pride and war mongering fashion, but now that the tables had turned he would not be bullied or shamed because he sought to make a decent living among those who considered him of the lesser race. However Skrall decided he would let this pass, the time had come for the orc to take his place with the other races not against them. He knew that he and others of his kind were willing and ready, but would he find the other races so willing?

"Thank you Barur, I will join you in a drink," Skrall replied as the bar maid appeared with his buttermilk. He took a long draft of the foaming cream and settled himself in his seat. Skrall chuckled at the description of old but knew that it was all a matter of perspective among the different races. "Quite honestly Barur, I came here because I heard that there was good money to be made in the heroing business. I was, for quite some time, one of the few highwayogres in these parts, but that business has moved southward as the traders around here have taken to arming their caravans with more sophisticated and especially nefarious individuals. I come from the south and have steadily worked my way northwards away from the sufferin' and oppression of my people that seems to linger on in that part of the land, though probably with due cause." Skrall took another swig of his tankard and proceeded to pull out his ram horn pipe. "Now pardon me if I be intrudin' to deep, but yar voice seems to tell a different tale about your homeland, leave a sweet little dwarf maid behind did ya?"

Skrall awoke with a start as a dwarf with a very orange beard strode into the hall, announcing himself with a shout "I am Barur of Tormek...". Skrall looked down at his breakfast that he had half finished hours ago. He had been day dreaming about his first merchant he had "seperated" from his his wares. He chuckled as he remembered how he had found himself blessed with half a dozen barrels of pickled herring and his embarrasment when he returned home with his booty to share among the tribe. As he reflected upon this, Skrall observed En Sabah Nur materialize out of the shadows of the hall and listened as Grush the orc shouted his call for an adventure. He couldn't blame the orc, he personally had never taken delight in the big cities as well, but he had learned that patience for the expected often yielded more satisfaction than rushing headlong into the unknown. "Feel free to go without me Grush, I know how the hot blood of our people burns within ya for more excitement than what this hall is offerin' of late. I shall remain and wait for the excitement to come to me, which I'm sure be in it's due time. Until then, make sure you don't get yarself or En Sabah Nur killed, imprisoned, or turned into toads or some other manner of flora or fauna," Skrall joked and with that he bid them a fine adventure. As Grush's party prepared to move out, Skrall hauled himself out off of his bench and took a seat across from the newly arrived dwarf ordering a tankard of buttermilk from the bar maid as he did so. "Well my good dwarf, it's been an age since I had any dealin's with your kind. The name's Skrall, no fancy surnames or what have ya, just plain Skrall. Where do ya hail from and what brings you to this fair hall?"

And with that, half a dozen individuals fell dead within Heroica Hall. By coincidence half a dozen clerics also strutted through the door, but were unfortunately unable to revive any of the deceased.

Skrall returned to the hall refreshed, after all he had slept for 2 whole days. He had stopped by the market place, but found that there wasn't anything pertinent that he needed, so after wandering through the stalls and rolling his eyes after any fair maiden who caught sight of him feinted he had decided it was time for some breakfast. Upon entering Heroica Hall he noted the silence that had seemed to pervade the space since all of the questers had left on their journeys. There was still a fair amount of people within, but most were huddled in small groups conversing quietly by themselves, except for a rather loud individual with a rather large axe giving a rogue a hard time. "A barbarian by the looks of him," thought Skrall as he avoided bumping into a hooded stranger consuming an entire cow at a table near him. Skrall took a seat near by the ravenous ranger and ordered a large bowl of mash and a slab of bacon. While his order was being prepared he took to analyzing the crowd around him. "Hmmm... Several rangers, a rogue or two, some more half naked barbarians, and the odd knight or mage mixed in for seasoning. Ah youth... out to seek glory and riches no doubt, and everyone of 'em's got a sad and sorrowful tale of death, betrayal, and revenge to boot," Skrall reflected. He had heard a few tales that had found their way out of the hall and into the market place concerning the deeds of his kind and couldn't say he had relished the possible reception he might have received upon his return. He didn't condone those among his race who thought it their right to maul, cleave, and altogether obliterate others simply for the pleasure of the deed, the heavens knew he had done his fair share of havoc during his early days, but he wouldn't back down should someone espouse the idea that they were only inferior killing beasts, fit only to be hunted like dogs. "Ah well," he thought "perhaps these younglings haven't ever had a civilized conversation with an orc before." and with that he set into his newly arrived breakfast thanking the bar maid for her kindness.

Well played to the both of you, especially to you Shadows my emoticon's hat's off to you. Keep up the great story work Hinckley.

Skrall chuckled he liked people who forged new paths for themselves, he would take note of this mage who had grown up among his own kind, perhaps they would one day quest together. Well, good mage it has been a delight in talkin' with you, but I think I will go and seek accomodations for the night (if any will have me) and stop in at the market place tomorrow morning. Grush it was kind of you to introduce yourself, I'm sure we shall meet again. With that the Ogre stowed away his pipe, heaved himself from his seat and walked out of the hall, noting that there were no quests being advertised at the moment. His thoughts turned to the three sets of travelers on their own quests, perhaps this younger generation had begun to accept his kind for who they were. They wouldn't change his opinion so easily, but he thought he could see a glimmer of hope on the horizon of Heroica's future. "Ah well," he thought "hope is for those sentimental elves and aspiring mages." Skrall had seen the world and he knew that change never came quickly.

Now that is quite a trick there my friend. I imagine it could come in handy if you wanted to track your enemies. Did your Father approve of your decision to delve into the magical arts instead of following in his footsteps?

I'm sorry to hear this, my sympathies go out to you. On an ending note, thanks all for such a great game. I had a blast playing and it's probably for the best that I was voted out today since classes start tomorrow. Looks like I'm not going to miss much sleep after all Thanks Hinckley for including me and for all the hard work you've put into the game thus far, I chuckled at my police record Now I can hardly wait for the end to get here!

Skrall looked up, he had been approached by a younger orc and a dark skinned mage that smelled of the earth as also his elemental gem bore witness. Skrall grimaced; he had never had much respect for mages, they always made him uneasy knowing that their power didn't rely on the strength of their arms or the thickness of their hides. This mage however seemed to have an appreciation for Skrall's way of life, at least he didn't dress like the hobnobbed magicians who had just left on their quest to find some missing wizard or another. With a swift draining of his ale Skrall addressed the pair: Good day to ya gentlemen. The nam' is Skrall. I hail from da far south, I'm of the tribe of Ginni if you've ever heard of 'em. I was born the youngest of my siblin's to my parents, who were both escaped slaves from a forasting crew. My parents raised us all as free ogres, though we were always on the move due to the horrid laws concerning 'r kind. My eldest brothers all joined the orc liberation movement, a radical offshoot of the survivors of the Orcish War; in fact I think I passed one of their demonstrations on my way here. My middlin' brothers and single sister, all decided to attempt to attend the university of Heroica, after bein' thrown out several times by the administration, they were admitted to work as the groundskeepers and participate in night classes. By the time it was my turn to leave the household, my head was full of political rhetoric, acadamic trivia, and a fervent desire to make my mark on the world. I knew I did't want to join my political nut-case brothers, and I did't want to stoop to the point of being someone's gardener, so I decided to take up the life of a highwayogre. Unfortunately my Ram had already given all of the family heirloom weapons off to my siblin's, so I went and killed myself a gigantic boar. I treated the pig's rib bones in the local salt marches which gave them a subtle yet stout composition, with the hair of my fair Dam I braided a bowstring, and after carving myself a dozen shafts from an oak tree I attached some sharpened flints for my arrow heads. "The life of a highwayogre would be mine," I thought. I would steal from the snobbish races and give back to my struggling people. Of late however the highwayogre business has gone south (both literally and figuratively) and I dare not set foot to far into that region where oppression continues to plague my people and where I cannot raise my head without being bound in chains. Thus I have come to offer my services here in this hall, who knows maybe the prejudice and tyranny of the heroes who founded it had over my people has subsided. I am encouraged by the employment of the bar maid, but I am sure she has her own stories of the sufferin's of the orc kind. Now that I have told my story, how and why do you both come to Heroica Hall, is it fame, fortune, or just a free meal that brought you? Skrall sat back in his chair and lit a pipe, if it could be called that since it resembled a rather large ram's horn stuffed with sour smelling weeds. He would listen for awhile, he had heard about a market place and wished to restock his meager satchel soon however.

Ah. Well thanks to which ever admin gave it to me, though I feel bad it came at the expense of a perfectly good mime

Well, it's been a long hard fight and there isn't much else that I can say. If those who don't believe me stick with their opinions I can understand. A few last words in my defense I guess since the day apparently still continues. Let me address the point I made of proving myself innocent. I have been accused that I killed Yuri, I have countered that accusation with the fact that I conducted a weak investigation upon him, both are equally valid. Since Ruxana seems to be an unblockable tracker there would be no reason why she couldn't track me again, if we agreed upon the target. Worst case scenerio they die, and I end up being the most unluckiest townie who ever lived. If I die because the scum now know I have a night action, then the town will have at least avoided voting out a townie today and could have voted out a real scum player. If Ruxana dies, why in the world would I target the one person who could prove my innocense? I'm sorry that it had to come down to this, one townie eliminating another, and I'm sure that the scum are just laughing themselves silly at their good luck in killing Yuri, but that's all. As to the votes against Ruxana, I think I've made it perfectly clear that I have had nothing against her actions, only her assumptions in not considering all of the alternatives. I've stated all this to her the other day and can only hope for the best. When I come up as town tomorrow please analyze the voting pattern as I think that may be our best shot at recovering from this awful nightmare. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to give that mime a decent funeral.

Don't touch the mime- My first title Given to me by Hinckley in his Baritones 3 due to my first statement made on day 1 of the game.

What an interesting topic In case you haven't guessed it, my screen name is a rewording of one of my favorite books Watership Down by Richard Adams combined with one of my favorite hobbies, Lego.

Heroica Hall was bustling with the preparations of parties preparing to depart on their first quests. While it might have been easy to overlook any other new face showing up in these hallowed halls at this time, the slight tremor in the floor boards and the groaning of the door frame made everyone look up at the new arrival. Standing almost twice as tall as the tallest barbarians and with an expression twice as grumpy as the grumpiest dwarf in the room (even though there was only one ) an ogre bearing a gigantic long bow squeezed his way through the crowded hall and took a seat at the nearest bench that could support his weight. With a heavy sigh the ogre took off his cap, mopped his brow and ordered a flagon of ale and a leg of mutton from the orc maid behind the bar. She looked familiar but he couldn't remember from where, no matter his memory wasn't what it used to be and he could investigate later. For now, all the ogre wished was to rest his weary bones and reflect upon the fact that he had finally stooped (both metaphorically and literally) to entering the hall that in his mind, had stood as a testament to oppression and tyranny all his life.

I understand the reasons for not using brick-built characters, but I am considering introducing a Troll bowman. Would this still be acceptable?

"Truth" this is coming from the guy who made his vote known before his accusee had an opportunity to defend himself. I'm not arguing that it shouldn't be acted on, but that it should be acting on with caution, as far as the smartest test you can ask Ruxana herself, I can prove myself innocent. The only problem is you seem to want to take me out before that can happen. If you were town I would think you would like to save as many townies as you can, instead you're already set for a lynching. This like all of your previous votes, seems lke a killing motive all show and no substance. You are ready to swing the axe as long as you're only doing it in the name of others. Unless you know something the rest of don't, I haven't been able to find anything relating the today's death to the "madness of the fool moon". Again I would encourage you to talk ask Ruxana for how I can be proven innocent, this would save us a townie and also give us someone to trust, but in the end I know you'd be all too happen to get rid of a townie even if it may cost you in confirming Roncanator. Woah, hold up you are still not providing any evidence about there being a vigilante. I have given several valid reasons why a Serial Killer is a distinct possibility and yet you continue to hammer on a vigilante and you're only reason is what some past movies refer to as "meta-gaming". This point could be argued either way. Your argument is that if the vigilante was making dumb kills they must not be in contact with anyone. However my argument is that since the vigilante is making such "dumb" kills that make complete sense for a Serial Killer to perform, the vigilante must be in fact a Serial Killer. You are again denying the logic and are resorting to simply calling it sillyness. I agree the Serial killer would not contact anyone, however a serial killer hiding as a vigilante always gives the town more assurance and provides an easy excuse should the he be caught in the act. I still disagree with you that the vigilante would be killing the wrong people, unfortunately for Sarah and thankfully for Max, both did not contribute much and were more than likely not to be protected at night or watched, perfect targets for a serial killer. As to them stopping after they made there first mistake, I don't see how you can back this up in anyway given the deaths thus far. I wouldn't expect a Serial Killer to claim anything less, and my role-claim as the snoop in no way effects whether anyone exists or not, you still have three deaths to account for and according to your own words there is now way that one scum team could have 2 kills. You're just making potshots in the dark here without backing anything up so you can get the heat off of yourself. Actually to be perfectly correct, my accuser would be Ruxana and I never did accuse her I'm tired of you're continual yapping on this issue, you're only reason to suspect this is from "meta-gaming" not to mention that it conveniently saves your hide from being accused as the Serial Killer. Sorry but you said it first, it's up for the town to make up the mind whether that's what you meant. Am I supposed to understand how the scum work? The Petr issue has gone back and forth enough and I think most of the town agree with me that Petr is on our side. You keep on saying what you would do if you were scum, this is hardly logical since you wouldn't say what you would do if you were scum anyways. Again more nonsense, unless you know something we don't about certain individuals aren't telling us, but I find this highly unlikely. I've already handled this . His words yes, his assumptions no. Time will tell whom was the one to have faith in and when that time comes I hope the town will look closely not at the bearer of the news but the one who has twisted it. Alright, while I hate to leave this fight, my bed job of patrolling the streets for lose crocodiles is calling my name. I will be back after my shift to continue this endeavour.

I am not agianst your result, I am however against your assumption that Yuri had not done anything the other day to make himself a target. To be blunt, he basically came out and asked for whom to block or whom to target with a scum kill. It obviously attracted a Scum killer trying to get rid of him as a blocker and it attracted me thinking he was a scum looking for power roles.

Point taken thanks. My accusation still stands. Vote: Stanislav (Shadows)

Of my two scenerios I think that the Serial Killer being the poisoner since all the motives I've supplied point to this as the most probable. It is more likely that Yuri was scum killed, even though I know this still keeps me under suspicion. However I've already addressed this suspicion with my "snooping" role and am working against the only other person I feel deserves suspicion today which is Stanislav.

Alright, it's time to put confusion aside. I'll admit an unblockable scum tracker is possible but highly unprobable. I have no problem with Ruxana, she is obviously doing her job and helping this town out, however I am dissapointed that mixup occured in the first place. I'm glad the day will end on somewhat of a happy note with the poisoning of Max, but I am worried about the day that will follow my conviction. After continual reviewal of the killings, we know that the Russian Mafia obviously used the revolver. That leaves us with the Tommy Gun killer and poisoner, one is part of the mafia and the other either a serial killer or vigilante. So if the tommy gun killer is the "other" mafia and I am supposedly he, then that makes the killer of Sarah and Max a vigilante what are the motives from a vigilante's perspective? From what I can tell in both their public posts there is virtually nothing. As has already been stated from a serial killer's perspective both Sarah and Max were likely unprotected or unwatched mafia and thus were easy targets, thus far there are more reasons to believe a serial killer took out Sarah and Max. Now on the flipside supposing the "other" mafia is the poisoner and the Vigilante/Serial killer is the Tommy Gun weilder. The same reasons that applied to the Serial Killer in the first scenario would also apply to the "other" mafia in this one, thus explaining the hit's on Sarah and Max. Now viewing the deaths of Eugene and Yuri from a vigilante/serial killer perspective, both Eugene and Yuri in hindsight were both town and from their posts would have appeared to confirm that. From a Serial Killer's point of view, both Eugene and Yuri's death's could have been seen as framings of their previous accusers and accusees Nika and Roncanator. Which ever way you look at it the serial killer's motives out weigh the vigilante's. Hopefully you're all holding on to me here, and not skipping along as Roncantor has mistakenly accused me of trying to do to you. From an analysis of both scenerio's the Serial Killer always seems to overshadow the Vigilante in terms of killing motives. It also interests me that after three days no one has heard hide nor tail from this confused Vigilante. This doesn't make sense, if they were listening to any of the conversation I would think they could find at least one trusted townie whom they could confide in. However if there was a Serial Killer hiding amoung us it naturally makes sense that he would not contact anyone and would try to keep his actions confused as those of a Vigilante. Now, I am also not a fan of accusing one's accusors but if I'm going to die tonight I might as well get you townies thinking. While other's may have supported the idea of a vigilante for sometime, there is one who sticks out to me as the ultimate example of pushing for the Vigilante to come forward and make smart decisions. That person is Stanislav, time and time again I keep hearing him shouting his Vigilante theory and I think he's gone far enough in purporting that just because I show up as town after a conviction that means Roncanator is scum. I have already answered Roncanator's claims and there is another explanation aside from the "if not him, it must be him" theory, it would seem like Stanislav is trying to "have his cake and eat it too" in getting two town night roles killed off one after another. I find it interesting noting Stanislav voting style, always with no explanation just a quick "bandwagon vote" it happened with Benji, it happened with Petr, and after Ruxana's accusation today, look who was quick with the, well that's enough for me I'll vote him off before he even has a chance to explain himself, shtick. I've got nothing else to lose so I might as well get this town thinking and right now I'm thinking Stanislav is the Serial Killer. So I'm going to vote: Stanislav (Shadows) Hopefully everyone was able to follow me, I'll take any questions you've got. I feel like I've answered Roncanator's claims and there isn't much I can do about it now, so I'm going after all that I've got left.