PB you ere I have absolutly no personal dislike. I really like your FFH reports but nevertheless I'm convinced you are a wolf here and should be lynched.
pocketbeetle Wrote:No, they're spreading irrational confusion and possibly obfuscating better arguments and campaigns that other villagers are trying to highlight.
And this is simply not true. I have asked for votes against you but I have not discredited anybody elses theories, ideas etc.
Rowain Wrote:PB you ere I have absolutly no personal dislike. I really like your FFH reports but nevertheless I'm convinced you are a wolf here and should be lynched.
I'm glad to hear that.
I couldn't work out if you meant a personal dislike of me or of switching, and me being me, I took the one which fitted my argument better.
pocketbeetle Wrote:I'm glad to hear that.
I couldn't work out if you meant a personal dislike of me or of switching, and me being me, I took the one which fitted my argument better.
The day started off well enough, there were a number of candidates for lynching: the stablehand, the scribe, and the glassblower, who knew that later on it would be such a bad day for the vintner?
After the previous day's rain, the sun shown brightly and beat down upon the village square as the villagers gathered to argue over who would be the next to hang. With the loss of the seer and the ability to sniff out the wolves (at least, they were pretty sure that's what the gigantic circle had been for in Bob's basement), everyone in the village was on edge. The scribe seemed to be taking it all rather too calmly, so the village turned to him for an explanation. "Oh it's simple", he explained slowly and carefully as if talking to a small and very slow child, "other villages have been able to successfully catch all the werewolves without a seer, so there's precedent for our survival in the future. Just because the seer is dead this early, it doens't mean that we're all doomed or anything like that, there's no need to vote for me just because I'm not panicking like the rest of you". This appeared to satisfy the village for the timebeing, and other candidates were brought up and discussed. Mr. Nice Guy, the town tailor, was mentioned, mostly because he had been sleeping in late and not participating in the village's deliberations, perhaps he was just too sleepy from all his nighttime excursions? Halfway through the day, Mardoc, the glass blower, came up with a crazy scheme that involved five wolves all working together openly and publicly to come hang him. People were somewhat amused by this theory, but it didn't really hold together all that well so folks moved on.
At some point in the day Rowain, the vintner, was mentioned as a possible candidate. After much exasperated argument, and the switching of the mayor back and forth, it became clear that there weren't enough votes to hang either the farmhand or the vintner; though it was certainly a near run thing. The arguments went back and forth, more hot air than good reasons, but the day was long and they might as well debate. It's not like anyone could really do anything that planned for the future while the werewolves were still running around. As night approached, the village once again returned to the scribe, who had steadily been accumulating votes throughout the day. "We should hang you, you're the only one we can agree on". "Don't be stupid, if you hang me who will keep your records? Who will settle disputes? Who else has has the knowledge of the experience to guide the village through these times without a seer or any other form of guidance? You need me, and that's why you won't hang me. Now if you're quite done, go and figure out whether or not it will be the Vintner or the Stablehand. It's nearly night and we do need to hang someone." The villagers sat there in silence for a brief moment. Novice, realizing that the seer, for once, didn't quite get it. "You misunderstand Selrahc, it's already been decided: we're hanging you today." Selrahc looked up, seeing the situation with new eyes, and looking around, realized that they had cornered him. "Well then, if you're really going to be that way, you best get on with it. Not like I, of such an intellectual bent, will be able to stop you from hanging me if you truly have your minds set on it. Your loss I assure you."
So they marched Selrahc up the gallows and put the noose around his neck, and he just stared at them, looking deep into their souls. For a moment, there was a flicker of doubt in the hearts of some of the village, but they looked to their mayor, and seeing his grim look of determination, they stifled their protests and watched silently. The trap door opened and Selrahc fell. As he sat there hanging, the sun gradually dipping below the hills, the village began to worry. Had they truly hanged another innocent, would there be no hope for the village? Then, all of a sudden, there was a flicker about Selrahc's body. Something seemed insubstantial about it. The villagers stared, none daring to blink. What had been Selrahc flickered again and again until suddently, the shape of the scribe was replaced with that of a wolf.
Novice smirked. Perhaps there was hope after all. The village went off to celebrate before returning to their homes for the night. Leaving the wolf who had been their scribe hanging in the air.
