If you haven't noticed, I'm trying to speed the game along a bit. People are getting bored and not having much fun. It's night 5. Send the Personal Messages (<- for kilga). Night ends tomorrow, Wednesday, at midnight, if a deadline is needed. Enjoy.
Like the moon over
the day, my genius and brawn are
wasted on these fools. ~Haiku
-Bowser
Re: TWG XLII: Raiders of the Temple of the Last Crusade
You meet as per normal procedure; if there can be a "normal" at a time like this. The mayor begins as he normally does, but you can sense a slight bit of hope in his voice.
"Good morning everyone. We have reason to believe this tragedy is over. With some luck and hard work on the part of my assistants, it is now thought that all of the original members of the exploration team have met their untimely demise. And while it is unfortunate to lose members of our town to this terrible curse, I think we can all agree that knowing our loved ones are now safe is more than comforting. It is for this that we will be holding a celebratory feast in my personal dining hall for those of you that have lost friends or family during this tragedy. I'd like you all to meet at my home around-" The mayor stops as one of his assistants approach him. The assistant whispers something into his ear and the mayor's look turns from worn, yet jolly, back to complete despair, as you've seen him look in days past.
"It seems as if my celebration is unfounded. There has been another body found. It seems jurs will not be joining us today. Keep alert everyone, you may still have a mole hiding amongst your closest allies. I must retire and think more on this matter. I leave you all to discuss. I trust you know what needs to be done by now..."
It is now day 5 and jurs has been found dead. Day 5 will end Thursday at midnight (yes, that's tomorrow). Living players include:
Re: TWG XLII: Raiders of the Temple of the Last Crusade
8)
EDIT: oops this is the game thread rofl
I watched clouds awobbly from the floor o' that kayak. Souls cross ages like clouds cross skies, an' tho' a cloud's shape nor hue nor size don't stay the same, it's still a cloud an' so is a soul. Who can say where the cloud's blowed from or who the soul'll be 'morrow? Only Sonmi the east an' the west an' the compass an' the atlas, yay, only the atlas o' clouds.
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