PGM: Day-Night 1 Flavor (up) - Edit 3
Before modification by Isaac at 23/05/2010 04:28:00 AM
A Chronology – Day 1
Summary of Day and Night 1 Flavor
Day 1 Morning Message
Location – Saladea, outskirts of Maradon
Date: Tenth day of Saven of 979 NE
The players have come to manor of Muad Cheade for Dahan, the ninth day of Saven, celebrated as the end of the Trolloc Wars. Many of you recognize others there, and it seems a collection of diverse but important and powerful people. Invitations were sent out long in advance, and many received invitations which hinted that Muad had something astonishing to reveal.
… and so he did, at the height of the dinner he unveiled a ter'angreal, which he had discovered in ancient ruins in the Blight, a simple amulet that when worn can allegedly, at midnight, reveal the allegiance of those sworn to the Shadow. He claimed that he had invited many who he believed were sworn to the Shadow and that he would use the power of the amulet to unveil them, or kill everyone who was his guest. As he pronounced this, dozens of guard surrounded those seated at the table, and he said this his fortress-manor would be sealed, until no Darkfriend remained. He called for a toast to this impending victory, which his stunned audience reluctantly shared, then sipped his wine.
Cheade began coughing, crying out that he'd been poisoned and pointing at his servant as he fell over. Surprisingly neither the accused servant or the guards seemed very surprised by this as the servant was taken away and the ailing Lord Cheade was carried from the room.
Thinking Muad Cheade mad, but unable to leave, the reluctant guests retire to their rooms in a separate wing of the manor that seems little more than a well-decorated prison. The next morning you take breakfast together, missing one of your number, and are informed by a young officer that Lord Cheade is alive, but gravely ill, and has claimed his servant poisoned him, but that he dropped the ter'angreal amulet when the poison took him, and that he believes one of you stole it. He's ordered that none of you be allowed to leave until all the darkfriends have been purged from your ranks, and knowing that no darkfriend would dare to wield the awesome power of the amulet.
Although the young officer seems to roll his eyes when saying much if this, he informs you that Muad Cheade has decreed that you are to decide amongst yourselves who is a Darkfriend, and who is not, then gestures into the courtyard, where a gibbet is being erected. He tells you that one of your number, Lord Tem Lurin of Arafel, was fatally wounded last night, and in his dying breath begged the 'Great Lord' to save him.
“I was also there when he uncovered its power, a man I've known for years and thought was a friend was unveiled as a darkfriend, Lord Cheade pointed at him and said he saw a shimmering field of darkness around him, called him a darkfriend and the man attacked, screaming for 'The Great Lord' to aid him, so I believe what he says, at least that much. Lord Cheade can be rather... eccentric at times but he is brilliant. He said he specifically invited this group because he knows some of you are darkfriends and others are not, but you are all important and dangerous people, and he's trusting those of you who are of the Light to deal with the darkfriends. Our physician says he will be bedridden for several days, I mean to see his orders carried out in the meantime.” Saying that, he turns and leaves.
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Day 1 Lunch Interlude
The young officer enters near noon, and whispers to Hieshyn, who frowns, nods, and rises from the table to leave, a pair of guards trailing him.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption in your deliberations.” Says the young man, “... however this seems to be a good time to have lunch and let everyone stretch their legs.”
He nods toward the guard by the glass doors to the courtyard, letting in a draft of crisp spring air. Servants enter baring trays and tables and begin setting them up. Several of the guest rise and stretch, helping themselves to food or returning to their rooms or walking in the well-tended gardens of the courtyard.
“Well, our deliberations seem on hiatus.” Says a woman dressed all in black with black hair as she rises from the table. “Hopefully when Hieshyn returns we will have all eighteen pairs of eyes left to examine this situation with.”
A fat man dressed in red and gold waves a hand covered in rings at her as he begins eating with enthusiasm. “Seventeen and a half, by my count, and that do be assuming no one is killed walking in the garden.”
“Or poisoned at the table.” Says a red-headed woman as she pats the fat man on the shoulder, her green riding dress shifting in the breeze as she joins two men by the doorway to the courtyard. The fat man lowers the fork halfway to his mouth with a grimace.
After an hour or so of people eating, walking, and otherwise refreshing themselves the guest begin gathering again in the room. An older man in gray with a sword on his hip stands and motions to gain everyone's attention. “I would like to raise this point again, that we have an even number, though odd at the moment, and if we are to do this process of elimination we may have even numbers again, we should have a way to establish how we will deal with a tie-breaking vote.”
“I second that.” Says the Andoran man further down the table. “We should have rules for how to deal with these sort of eventualities. I propose we select someone each day, by vote, to serve as a tie-breaker and generally assist in making sure everyone gets a chance to have their say, and someone should defend the accused too.”
“Agreed” Says a Saldaean man who is cleaning his nails with a boot dagger. “We aren't a bunch of peasants acting like a mob after all, but I don't want it to be the same person every day.”
“Without any objection...” The older man in gray says, scanning the room for dissent, getting mostly shrugs and nods, “Very well, I open the floor to nominations.”
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Day 1 Lynch Scene
“I'm not a Darkfriend!” Blaine screams as the final vote needed is cast by Black Adder.
“I'm sorry, but that's the rules.” Says the young officer, who enters at that moment, trailed by guards.
The other 'guests' back away from the table as the guards approach, but Blaine pulls his sword from his scabbard and lunges toward BlackAdder, screaming that he's innocent. BlackAdder barely manages to draw his own sword and parry the blow in time, then all descends into chaos as several in the room try to get further away while others draw weapons or leap on Blaine, trying to tackle the young Amadician.
The glass door shatters as some object hurled at Blaine misses him and strikes the window, and a gust of wind sweeps in, blowing out many of the lamps and candles already lit to ward of the coming night, plunging the room into dancing lights and shadows.
The young officer bellows for order, the guards pull people apart, and after only a few seconds silence returns, as Blaine struggle to his knees, a blood staining his brown doublet from a deep wound.
“I am not a darkfriend...” He whispers. His eyes glaze over in death as night falls.
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BlackAdder Night Message 1 A
As you parry Blaine's wild sword swing you nick him with your sword, and as the snow begins falling all around you, the cold breeze outside Tar Valon chilling you bones, you barely manage to slap aside Blaine's spear thrust, just as you drive home you sword through the Aiel's chest, you crumple to your knees holding your wound, as a wave of Aiel tackle you to the ground, knocking your sword free, and you awaken in a tent, the moans of the wounded stirring you from your fever dreams.
“He is gravely wounded.” Says a woman's voice above you, “Yet his fever seems too high for even such injuries.”
You shudder, and shiver in spite of the heat, as a wave passes through you, healing your injuries. You look up to see the woman, deep blues eyes set in a face framed with red hair, standing above you.
“Thank you.” You whisper.
As you kneel on the carpet, you see a red-headed women with a familiar face regarding the slain Amadician, your arms goose-bumped, she shakes her head and walk aways, your goose-bumps vanishing. No one seems to be paying much attention as you rise pick up you sword and wander off to your rooms, no snow marks your footsteps as you leave.
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Darkfriend Mass Message - Night 1
Kronin bends down to retrieve the knife lying in a bush near the broken window.
“Yours, I take it?” He says, passing the throwing dagger hilt first to Fox and Ravens, who tucks it back up his sleeve. “It's so good everyone keeps showing so much initiative. You, that fool Lurin, who next?”
Rebuked, Fox scowls. “What is so important we must talk? I've other matters to see to as you know. Delay may be suspicious.”
“I believe our dear friend Kronin means for us to try to kill someone tonight.” Darth_Katie says, a wicked smile touching her lips.
Kronin glares at her. “Watch your words, witch, we know not who listens.”
Artsapat takes a menacing step forward, his hand going to his sword hilt, Darth_Katie puts a restraining hand on his shoulder. “I am Aes Sedai, dear Kronin, as you say. We are shielded from those seeking to overhear us. So who shall we kill.”
Still glaring at Kronin, Artsapat caresses his sword hilt. “There are four of us.” He says, smirking. “I believe we should be able to do winnow down the number of guests in short order.”
“No!” Kronin snaps. “I'll have no more of these mad risks. Your proclivity for taking unwise actions is what has already gotten you exposed to Cheade.”
“You as well!” Fox snaps back.
“To the contrary, I was not initially invited, but I knew your names, and Tem Lurin and I had suspiscions with so many of our 'friends' being invited. I came as his guest, and I know Cheade, he received me warmly. No, we will have no more risks. We will plan our actions, and do this one at a time, even if we must spend many nights doing it. Fear not, Artsapat, I'm sure your blade's hunger will be quenched before this is done. But none of you are to kill anyone until we have decided on who and how. Am I clear?”
Reluctant nods follow...
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Saldaean Noble Night Message 1 A
Fox and Ravens quietly shuts the door behind him as he enters the small room off the library, full off maps, weapons, and armor.
Yunalesca looks up from a map. “Now that we are all here, let us proceed. We must figure out what we are to do about this situation.”
“Cheade and his whole line are...” Bergioyn cuts off, remembering Yunalesca is a distaff relation of Muad Cheade. “... tactical geniuses, I am glad we have your leadership and guidance, Yunalesca, on this complex matter.”
Yunalesca smiles. “Fear not, unlike my mad kinsman, I am quite sane, and do not believe oak trees can spy on me as he does... only pines trees can.”
Fox laughs at this, and cuts off as Yunalesca glares at the younger noble. “Why are you laughing?” Yunalesca asks.
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Night 1 Guard room encounter - Fistofpainx and Amys
“Well it can be played with either 5 or 6 players.” says the guard, Kal Redder, as he holds the deck of playing cards up. “We only play for coppers, we're not as wealthy as either of you, but it's a good way to burn the night away. You're both welcome to join us.”
Fistofpainx shakes his head as he fills his mug from the tea kettle “A fine offer, friend Redder, but I do be tired tonight. A good night to you and your brethren, friend Redder, and to you too Amys.”
“Good night, Fistofpainx, I'll have to ask Mistress Dormaile about your request when I return to Tar Valon, but I think she'll approve.”
“I do hope so, and give my best to Ilain when you see her.”
“I will, good night.”
“Good night.” Says Fistofpainx, as he leaves the room.
With a sigh Amys looks at the guard, still holding the deck of cards with a questioning, hopeful expression. “I'm in.”
White Cloak Group Message - Night 1
Cursing and pacing, Hobo stops, slapping the wall of his room.
“Did you see who killed him?”
“No.” Gher says. “Not I, nor who threw the dagger that broke the glass... though I'm glad he died before he might have spoken our names. I believe Cheade, and surely the Darkfriends will seek to come after us above all others. It is better he died as he did.”
In a lightning move, Hobo's sword clears his scabbard and rests, tip unwavering, a finger's width from Gher's throat. “He was my nephew, Questioner, I mean to see his killer dead.”
The one-eyed man does not so much as flinch at the sword at his neck. “Calm yourself, Captain, we will have our revenge on the dirty darkfriends who murdered our young friend. Put up your sword, and let us us discuss what we are to do.”
Shaking with rage, Hobo finally mutters one last curse and sheaths his weapon...
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Tower Group Night Message 1 A
Ranagrande Sedai looks up from her writing desk as Talic enters the room, followed by the her warder, White Flame, who stations himself by the door, his relaxed posture fools no one in the room that the Kandori can have his two swords drawn in the flick of an eye.
Talic closes her blue eyes for a moment, then opens them, “I have shielded us from spies.” She says.
“Excellent, girl, now tell me, why did you not heal the man Blaine?”
Talic scowls, “I have the shawl and the ring, you...”
“Held both before you were even a novice, back when you were dancing away your evenings with foolish tinkers, now answer the question.”
“Yes, Ranagrande Sedai.” Talic says with downcast eyes. “I could not reach him in time, and as you know, my powers are not as great as many.” Talic resists the urge to remind the other Aes Sedai that she was the first to vote to hang the whitecloak.
Rangrande shakes her head in contempt. “I'm amazed you were even allowed to test for the shawl, let alone survived. Very well, I can hardly say I regret the loss of another foolish whitecloak, but we've real darkfriends to hunt, and unlike those fools, we of the Red know well how to seek out darkfriends.”
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Fanatic-Templar Night Message 1 A
The fire light glitters off the amulet, slowly spinning on it's chain, as you hold it suspended before your eyes... midnight nears... you ponder your options as you sit in your room.
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Summary of Day and Night 1 Flavor
Day 1 Morning Message
Location – Saladea, outskirts of Maradon
Date: Tenth day of Saven of 979 NE
The players have come to manor of Muad Cheade for Dahan, the ninth day of Saven, celebrated as the end of the Trolloc Wars. Many of you recognize others there, and it seems a collection of diverse but important and powerful people. Invitations were sent out long in advance, and many received invitations which hinted that Muad had something astonishing to reveal.
… and so he did, at the height of the dinner he unveiled a ter'angreal, which he had discovered in ancient ruins in the Blight, a simple amulet that when worn can allegedly, at midnight, reveal the allegiance of those sworn to the Shadow. He claimed that he had invited many who he believed were sworn to the Shadow and that he would use the power of the amulet to unveil them, or kill everyone who was his guest. As he pronounced this, dozens of guard surrounded those seated at the table, and he said this his fortress-manor would be sealed, until no Darkfriend remained. He called for a toast to this impending victory, which his stunned audience reluctantly shared, then sipped his wine.
Cheade began coughing, crying out that he'd been poisoned and pointing at his servant as he fell over. Surprisingly neither the accused servant or the guards seemed very surprised by this as the servant was taken away and the ailing Lord Cheade was carried from the room.
Thinking Muad Cheade mad, but unable to leave, the reluctant guests retire to their rooms in a separate wing of the manor that seems little more than a well-decorated prison. The next morning you take breakfast together, missing one of your number, and are informed by a young officer that Lord Cheade is alive, but gravely ill, and has claimed his servant poisoned him, but that he dropped the ter'angreal amulet when the poison took him, and that he believes one of you stole it. He's ordered that none of you be allowed to leave until all the darkfriends have been purged from your ranks, and knowing that no darkfriend would dare to wield the awesome power of the amulet.
Although the young officer seems to roll his eyes when saying much if this, he informs you that Muad Cheade has decreed that you are to decide amongst yourselves who is a Darkfriend, and who is not, then gestures into the courtyard, where a gibbet is being erected. He tells you that one of your number, Lord Tem Lurin of Arafel, was fatally wounded last night, and in his dying breath begged the 'Great Lord' to save him.
“I was also there when he uncovered its power, a man I've known for years and thought was a friend was unveiled as a darkfriend, Lord Cheade pointed at him and said he saw a shimmering field of darkness around him, called him a darkfriend and the man attacked, screaming for 'The Great Lord' to aid him, so I believe what he says, at least that much. Lord Cheade can be rather... eccentric at times but he is brilliant. He said he specifically invited this group because he knows some of you are darkfriends and others are not, but you are all important and dangerous people, and he's trusting those of you who are of the Light to deal with the darkfriends. Our physician says he will be bedridden for several days, I mean to see his orders carried out in the meantime.” Saying that, he turns and leaves.
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Day 1 Lunch Interlude
The young officer enters near noon, and whispers to Hieshyn, who frowns, nods, and rises from the table to leave, a pair of guards trailing him.
“Ladies and Gentlemen, I apologize for the interruption in your deliberations.” Says the young man, “... however this seems to be a good time to have lunch and let everyone stretch their legs.”
He nods toward the guard by the glass doors to the courtyard, letting in a draft of crisp spring air. Servants enter baring trays and tables and begin setting them up. Several of the guest rise and stretch, helping themselves to food or returning to their rooms or walking in the well-tended gardens of the courtyard.
“Well, our deliberations seem on hiatus.” Says a woman dressed all in black with black hair as she rises from the table. “Hopefully when Hieshyn returns we will have all eighteen pairs of eyes left to examine this situation with.”
A fat man dressed in red and gold waves a hand covered in rings at her as he begins eating with enthusiasm. “Seventeen and a half, by my count, and that do be assuming no one is killed walking in the garden.”
“Or poisoned at the table.” Says a red-headed woman as she pats the fat man on the shoulder, her green riding dress shifting in the breeze as she joins two men by the doorway to the courtyard. The fat man lowers the fork halfway to his mouth with a grimace.
After an hour or so of people eating, walking, and otherwise refreshing themselves the guest begin gathering again in the room. An older man in gray with a sword on his hip stands and motions to gain everyone's attention. “I would like to raise this point again, that we have an even number, though odd at the moment, and if we are to do this process of elimination we may have even numbers again, we should have a way to establish how we will deal with a tie-breaking vote.”
“I second that.” Says the Andoran man further down the table. “We should have rules for how to deal with these sort of eventualities. I propose we select someone each day, by vote, to serve as a tie-breaker and generally assist in making sure everyone gets a chance to have their say, and someone should defend the accused too.”
“Agreed” Says a Saldaean man who is cleaning his nails with a boot dagger. “We aren't a bunch of peasants acting like a mob after all, but I don't want it to be the same person every day.”
“Without any objection...” The older man in gray says, scanning the room for dissent, getting mostly shrugs and nods, “Very well, I open the floor to nominations.”
.
.
.
Day 1 Lynch Scene
“I'm not a Darkfriend!” Blaine screams as the final vote needed is cast by Black Adder.
“I'm sorry, but that's the rules.” Says the young officer, who enters at that moment, trailed by guards.
The other 'guests' back away from the table as the guards approach, but Blaine pulls his sword from his scabbard and lunges toward BlackAdder, screaming that he's innocent. BlackAdder barely manages to draw his own sword and parry the blow in time, then all descends into chaos as several in the room try to get further away while others draw weapons or leap on Blaine, trying to tackle the young Amadician.
The glass door shatters as some object hurled at Blaine misses him and strikes the window, and a gust of wind sweeps in, blowing out many of the lamps and candles already lit to ward of the coming night, plunging the room into dancing lights and shadows.
The young officer bellows for order, the guards pull people apart, and after only a few seconds silence returns, as Blaine struggle to his knees, a blood staining his brown doublet from a deep wound.
“I am not a darkfriend...” He whispers. His eyes glaze over in death as night falls.
.
.
.
BlackAdder Night Message 1 A
As you parry Blaine's wild sword swing you nick him with your sword, and as the snow begins falling all around you, the cold breeze outside Tar Valon chilling you bones, you barely manage to slap aside Blaine's spear thrust, just as you drive home you sword through the Aiel's chest, you crumple to your knees holding your wound, as a wave of Aiel tackle you to the ground, knocking your sword free, and you awaken in a tent, the moans of the wounded stirring you from your fever dreams.
“He is gravely wounded.” Says a woman's voice above you, “Yet his fever seems too high for even such injuries.”
You shudder, and shiver in spite of the heat, as a wave passes through you, healing your injuries. You look up to see the woman, deep blues eyes set in a face framed with red hair, standing above you.
“Thank you.” You whisper.
As you kneel on the carpet, you see a red-headed women with a familiar face regarding the slain Amadician, your arms goose-bumped, she shakes her head and walk aways, your goose-bumps vanishing. No one seems to be paying much attention as you rise pick up you sword and wander off to your rooms, no snow marks your footsteps as you leave.
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Darkfriend Mass Message - Night 1
Kronin bends down to retrieve the knife lying in a bush near the broken window.
“Yours, I take it?” He says, passing the throwing dagger hilt first to Fox and Ravens, who tucks it back up his sleeve. “It's so good everyone keeps showing so much initiative. You, that fool Lurin, who next?”
Rebuked, Fox scowls. “What is so important we must talk? I've other matters to see to as you know. Delay may be suspicious.”
“I believe our dear friend Kronin means for us to try to kill someone tonight.” Darth_Katie says, a wicked smile touching her lips.
Kronin glares at her. “Watch your words, witch, we know not who listens.”
Artsapat takes a menacing step forward, his hand going to his sword hilt, Darth_Katie puts a restraining hand on his shoulder. “I am Aes Sedai, dear Kronin, as you say. We are shielded from those seeking to overhear us. So who shall we kill.”
Still glaring at Kronin, Artsapat caresses his sword hilt. “There are four of us.” He says, smirking. “I believe we should be able to do winnow down the number of guests in short order.”
“No!” Kronin snaps. “I'll have no more of these mad risks. Your proclivity for taking unwise actions is what has already gotten you exposed to Cheade.”
“You as well!” Fox snaps back.
“To the contrary, I was not initially invited, but I knew your names, and Tem Lurin and I had suspiscions with so many of our 'friends' being invited. I came as his guest, and I know Cheade, he received me warmly. No, we will have no more risks. We will plan our actions, and do this one at a time, even if we must spend many nights doing it. Fear not, Artsapat, I'm sure your blade's hunger will be quenched before this is done. But none of you are to kill anyone until we have decided on who and how. Am I clear?”
Reluctant nods follow...
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Saldaean Noble Night Message 1 A
Fox and Ravens quietly shuts the door behind him as he enters the small room off the library, full off maps, weapons, and armor.
Yunalesca looks up from a map. “Now that we are all here, let us proceed. We must figure out what we are to do about this situation.”
“Cheade and his whole line are...” Bergioyn cuts off, remembering Yunalesca is a distaff relation of Muad Cheade. “... tactical geniuses, I am glad we have your leadership and guidance, Yunalesca, on this complex matter.”
Yunalesca smiles. “Fear not, unlike my mad kinsman, I am quite sane, and do not believe oak trees can spy on me as he does... only pines trees can.”
Fox laughs at this, and cuts off as Yunalesca glares at the younger noble. “Why are you laughing?” Yunalesca asks.
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Night 1 Guard room encounter - Fistofpainx and Amys
“Well it can be played with either 5 or 6 players.” says the guard, Kal Redder, as he holds the deck of playing cards up. “We only play for coppers, we're not as wealthy as either of you, but it's a good way to burn the night away. You're both welcome to join us.”
Fistofpainx shakes his head as he fills his mug from the tea kettle “A fine offer, friend Redder, but I do be tired tonight. A good night to you and your brethren, friend Redder, and to you too Amys.”
“Good night, Fistofpainx, I'll have to ask Mistress Dormaile about your request when I return to Tar Valon, but I think she'll approve.”
“I do hope so, and give my best to Ilain when you see her.”
“I will, good night.”
“Good night.” Says Fistofpainx, as he leaves the room.
With a sigh Amys looks at the guard, still holding the deck of cards with a questioning, hopeful expression. “I'm in.”
White Cloak Group Message - Night 1
Cursing and pacing, Hobo stops, slapping the wall of his room.
“Did you see who killed him?”
“No.” Gher says. “Not I, nor who threw the dagger that broke the glass... though I'm glad he died before he might have spoken our names. I believe Cheade, and surely the Darkfriends will seek to come after us above all others. It is better he died as he did.”
In a lightning move, Hobo's sword clears his scabbard and rests, tip unwavering, a finger's width from Gher's throat. “He was my nephew, Questioner, I mean to see his killer dead.”
The one-eyed man does not so much as flinch at the sword at his neck. “Calm yourself, Captain, we will have our revenge on the dirty darkfriends who murdered our young friend. Put up your sword, and let us us discuss what we are to do.”
Shaking with rage, Hobo finally mutters one last curse and sheaths his weapon...
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Tower Group Night Message 1 A
Ranagrande Sedai looks up from her writing desk as Talic enters the room, followed by the her warder, White Flame, who stations himself by the door, his relaxed posture fools no one in the room that the Kandori can have his two swords drawn in the flick of an eye.
Talic closes her blue eyes for a moment, then opens them, “I have shielded us from spies.” She says.
“Excellent, girl, now tell me, why did you not heal the man Blaine?”
Talic scowls, “I have the shawl and the ring, you...”
“Held both before you were even a novice, back when you were dancing away your evenings with foolish tinkers, now answer the question.”
“Yes, Ranagrande Sedai.” Talic says with downcast eyes. “I could not reach him in time, and as you know, my powers are not as great as many.” Talic resists the urge to remind the other Aes Sedai that she was the first to vote to hang the whitecloak.
Rangrande shakes her head in contempt. “I'm amazed you were even allowed to test for the shawl, let alone survived. Very well, I can hardly say I regret the loss of another foolish whitecloak, but we've real darkfriends to hunt, and unlike those fools, we of the Red know well how to seek out darkfriends.”
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Fanatic-Templar Night Message 1 A
The fire light glitters off the amulet, slowly spinning on it's chain, as you hold it suspended before your eyes... midnight nears... you ponder your options as you sit in your room.
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