Werewolf Game - The Game is Done!

Sorry guys, internet suddenly conked out, so I could not post until I got back home. Also, please note that you can't secretly vote via PM, unless you are a werewolf killing somebody.

The day had lasted a long time. After much heated discussion, Zanza was brought forward for execution by Rain Dog, Xiao, and Charonte. Zanza said nothing, a first for the notoriously obnoxious man. He must have known his day had come.

Elfsson pulled back the blacksmith's hair and held the razor to his throat. Dusk was silent and solemn as Zanza's blood spilled on Elfsson's feet. The sun set, and the villagers returned to their homes. Zanza was tied to a post in the centre of town. If he was a terrible wolf, hairs would sprout from his corpse and remain there in the morning, just as the other wolves had.

You have until January 8 to send in your night votes!

 

Elfsson stalked the night, silver blade in hand. The Sheriff had assigned him this role, as Mayor and Defender of the village, and it would be up to him to purge the village of this hairy menace. He observed Zanza's corpse. Damn it all! Zanza was a human! This boded ill.

Wait! What was that? Movement from the church. Elfsson ran inside, kicked open the door and looked around. Nothing. Something was very, very wrong. He felt uneasy. He had been shirking his duties tonight, he knew, losing focus. Must have been sleep deprivation. He turned, trying to decide who to guard tonight.

A claw zipped through the air and tore open his throat. Elfsson gurgled, dismayed at being caught off guard. His sword fell to the ground. The wolf gripped his head with both paws and snapped his neck. Elfsson, Mayor and Guardian Angel of Arcanum, was dead.

The next morning, the villagers gathered in the church once more. Only seven of them now. Two of which were werewolves. Despite the blizzard, things were really heating up now.

You have five days (the 16th of January) to make your day votes.

 

Xiao looked around at her fellow survivors, torn by feelings of guilt. She had been fond of Elfsson, and now he was gone. There were so few of them left, and so few ways to determine a werewolf's identity... But there was one she could think of.

She picked up the silver-coated razor and held it against her palm, slowly pushing until it cut a thin red line across her hand. It felt like a normal blade, cold, and cutting hurt a little, but no more than the multitude of times that she'd cut herself during her duties as grocer.

She held out her hand. "Not a werewolf," she said, cold and hard. "Who's next?" There was a look in her eyes that said she was going to test each and every one of them, even if she had to hurt them to do it.

 

Father Muro grabbed the silver-coated razor with indifference and repeated the grocer's action on his own palm until a small wisp of blood appeared. A priest doesn't have too much occasions to deal with blades, so the cut was deeper than he intended it to be, which resulted in a grimace ("Why do they make those things so sharp anyway? It's a good thing I don't shave"), but not much more.

"Not a warewolf" he said calmly, accenting the first word, and raised his uninjured hand holding the razor. Without choosing anyone in particular, he was waiting for someone else to take it while he himself was observing Rain Dog with half-closed eyes. The priest remembered well that Rain Dog was the one that accused Zanza of being a werewolf and is now responsible for the murder of an innocent man. An ungodly coward at best, and a calculating werewolf at worst. Most importantly, indicated by the Lord himself. "Clear as crystal", he thought, yet choose to wait and see what happens before deciding upon what to do.

 

PD walked over and took hold of the Priest’s cut hand. It was a deep cut. Either Muro was a complete bumble or a bit of a masochist. After a brief examination of the cut, PD poured a good pint of vodka on the wound. Muro stifled a scream, much to PD amusement. The priest’s watery eyes told PD that the correct choice was bumble.

PD took the blade and made a mock pass over his own palm. “You see Father,” he explained “this damn thing’s sharp enough that you don’t need a lot of pressure. You just gotta drag it across your palm and let the blade do all the work”.

PD took a good pull from his vodka and set the bottle down on the pew. He held the blade against his palm and took a deep breath. “Now you’ll see how it’s supposed to be done”. In one swift move, PD closed the razor and tossed it through the air to Rain Dog. “Why don’t you show us, Rain Dog?” he said with a twinkle in his eye. The razor hung in the air for a moment, as if unsure what to do next.

 

Everyone waited for Rain Dog's reaction, yet there was nothing but silence and stagnancy lasting for a protracted moment.

"It would seem Rain Dog isn't too keen on proving that he is not a werewolf. That's... interesting, at least." - stated father Muro, as calmly as he could after Papa Dog's - not-that-painless, but still - medical help. The priest felt that his suspicion is becoming more and more clearly correct, but then he realised that there was something more, something he nearly overlooked. An attempt to divert attention, perhaps? A try to gain time when dusk is right behind the corner?

The priest glanced at Rain Dog for one more brief second and turned his attention to Papa Dog. "How about you, child? Quite a waste, already having the razor in your hands, yet not using it. What could be the reason behind such behaviour?"

 

"No, no," said Rain Dog, as Father Muro turned away from him, "I'll do it."

He took the razor and looked at it trembling. He was not at all happy with the prospect of cutting himself open in front of the others, but he couldn't refuse.

He scraped it along his skin, which glistened for a moment, then started to bleed.

"Ow, ow, ow," cried Rain Dog as he dropped the razor. He looked up at the others, he didn't know what they'd been expecting but nothing had happened.

"See," he said bitterly, "not a werewolf."

 

“Well hell”, thought PD. He was sure it was Rain Dog. Now he had to step up. “I’m sorry Rain Dog.”, PD said while taking the razor, “Guess I was wrong about you. Want some Vodka for that cut?”. He took a quick look at the wound and it was indeed bleeding. “Hey Father, he did a better job than you.” PD chuckled.

“Well I suppose it’s me next, again.” He said with a grin. He drew the blade along the back of his arm. “It’ll be less bothersome back here. Palm of the hands a hell of a place to have cut.” Sure enough, blood welled up and started to run down his arm. PD showed off the wound, “See. Not me.” He then knelt down and let his dog lick the wound clean. “There’s a good boy”, he said to the dog. Then to the others, without looking up he said, “Dogs got medicine in their tongue. Never had a wound go bad that a dog has licked.” This was followed by a swig of Vodka. Who could it be? Charonte? Wobbler? Davis?
Weren’t they the only ones left alive that hadn’t tried the razor. PD wasn’t sure, perhaps he’d been hitting that Vodka a bit too hard lately.

 

Xiao ripped the sleeve off her jacket and tore it into strips, binding her palm before tending to the wounds of others. It had been her own damn idea, anyway, so by all rights she needed to be the one doing something about the damage. Still, so far it seemed to be working nicely...

She leaned in close to Papadog as she bound his arm. "If they resist, I'm going to need you to hold them down," she said, softly enough that only he would be able to hear her. "Are you with me?"

 

Father Muro did not hear what Xiao spoke to Papa Dog, nor did he even want to. The whole world became blurry for him after he saw Rain Dog passing the test. "How can this be? He can't... he must..." - his thoughts were running wild. He now had no idea what should he do now, and he knew that dusk was close, so very close. If the day ends without banishing one of the devils, it will mean that the day was lost. More invaluable time disappearing, the werewolves winning another round, the situation becoming more and more hopeless...

The priest felt that a breakdown is near, he knew he will start panicing any second now. He decided to do the only thing that ever helps him in such situations - he sought sedation in prayer.

Calmness was all he desired right know, he was too worn-out to even think about searching for a new answer, yet it would seem that the said answer was already awaiting him, and that it didn't plan to ask for his allowance.

"Xiao Caity." - he heard a voice in his head, merely seconds after he started praying.
"I... I must have misheard it."
"Xiao Caity."
"But how can this be that your choice is not Charonte? Davis? Wobbler? They were the ones who didn't take part in the test."
"Xiao..."
"...why not Rain Dog? Lord, you have already pointed him out earlier, you had a reason for this, you must have had!"
"...Caity."
"She passed the test. Moreover, she was the one that started it! I... I..."
The voice was persistent. Father Muro did not understand this. Not one bit.

"...yet I am not here to understand, but to serve you're infallible will." - the priest whispered with a barely audible voice. "I trust you. My Lord, I trust you..." - he said, and paused. "...what choice do I have?" - he asked, not even expecting an answer this time. The villagers were staring at him, not sure what are they supposed to expect next.

He knew this is going to hurt him as much as her. He turned over to Xiao, and gathered all of the mental strength that was left in him. He knew he will need it.

"Xiao Caity, daughter, why?" - he said slowly while unhurriedly approaching the grocer.

 

The rest of you have an hour or two to vote before Muro's vote for Xiao goes through and she dies.

 

"What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded. "Are you accusing ME?" Hands on hips, she got right up in the priest's face. "In case you hadn't noticed, I passed the test. It was my idea! Unless..."

She took two rapid steps backward to keep well out of his reach. "You trecherous bastard, Muro! You tricked us!"

 

I'll give you an extra day or so to break this tie.

 

Rain Dog looked up with shock at Muro's words, then watched Xiao turn on him. He backed away fearfully, he didn't understand. Why would Xiao have started the test if it was her? But Muro? How could it be him?

Then again, Muro had been the first one to blame him.

 

"Treacherous bastard? Don't you forget who you are talking to, young one!" - father Muro shouted.
The priest felt a wave of additional energy spreading through his body after he saw how the situation is turning out against him. Was it adrenaline or a divine help, how could a simple servant of the god know that. Without thinking much about it, he accepted this new strength, and so he began his speech with a fresh mind.
"Fools! I speak not in my name, but in the name of the Lord himself! But if you want reason and explanation, I'll give it to you, oh yes I will."

"You!" - He pointed at Xiao - "You came out with this test, that be true. You passed that test, but so did I. If I would be able to trick myself out of it, so could anyone else. And just what exactly would you expect to happen, how would a werewolf be exposed? We have all witnessed that at day those devils are but normal people, they bleed and suffer just like us. Silver is the only thing that hurts the wolves during night, which is why they fear it then. Yet during the day it makes no difference for them, silver or any other metal, they are exactly as vulnerable to both as we all are, no more, no less. Your test does not distinguish people from wolves, therefore it means nothing, nothing I say!" - he shouted and paused for a few seconds to emphasis the importance of his last sentence, and then calmly continued - "But, of course, you did well at distracting attention. Even though the test means nothing, being the one who suggested it, you would be the last one to be accused now, wouldn't you? I congratulate you, even I was fooled and confused for a moment or two. Thankfully the Lord helped me see the truth."

Then he turned for a brief second to Rain Dog.
"You. You want my blood too, eh? A werewolf aiding his kin, or simply a coward following the bandwagon willing to prolong his earthly existence even if it means killing a priest? In either case, your conscious will be the judge, and then will come the Lord's judgement upon the likes of you." - he said not without disgust.

Then, finally, he turned to the rest of the villagers.
"Papa Dog.
Davis.
Charonte.
Wobbler.
My dear children. You can either believe the test or not. If you believe Xiao's test, you can clearly see that I am not a werewolf, and that both she and Rain Dog want to kill an innocent man now. Do you want to allow that to happen? This would only weaken your chances against the devils."

"Yet if you see things just as myself and know this test to be simply a distraction of attention, listen to your hearts and your senses. See the truth in my words, kill the werewolves..." - he briefly glanced with confidence at Xiao and, with some doubt, at Rain Dog, and turned back to the rest of the villagers - "...and end this nightmare once and for all."

"What's the alternative? You can ignore your senses and do nothing, just like you are doing right now, allowing a servant of the Lord to get killed when you could have stopped it - or even help the monsters in this evil act - and accept the fact, that this form of spitting in the Lords face means condemning your eternal souls forever. Does a few additional days of life on earth - if that is even to be hoped for - mean more for you than what will be happening with you for all eternity afterwards? Is the perspective of Hell and never again seeing your killed love ones your choice?"

"If the werewolves will kill us all, they will only end our earthly lives, but if you do as they now wish you to do, they will even corrupt your souls in the Devil's name. Be wiser than this!"

 

Xiao's expression didn't change once during the priest's rant, her eyes narrow and lips pressed together.

"Are you quite finished?" she asked when she was done, her voice dripping with disdain. "I find your sudden expertise on werewolves rather telling. After all, the tales we all know speak of werewolves being vulnerable to and pained by silver all the time, not merely during the night."

She brushed a little imaginary dust from her sleeve as she continued. "You keep claiming that the Lord keeps telling you who to kill, but how do we know it's God and not, say, the innate survival instincts of a werewolf, turning on those who pose a threat to him? Or even the Devil himself? Why should we trust you and your constant proclamations?"

She sort of fell in on herself a bit. "The Lord you taught me to believe in would not order you to kill."

 

The villagers were stunned at Muro's speech, but they followed the instructions of Xiao and Rain Dog nonetheless. Rain Dog held the priest down, and while he glared at his neighbors, Xiao took the razor and sliced open his throat. He died there, at sunset, while his friends watched. They returned home that night, feeling embittered.

Two days for night votes, wolves!

 

It took four days for me to come back and post, but rest assured, the wolves voted within two.

Papa Dog was safe. His dogs were outside, barking at the wolfish menace, securing him tightly from their diabolical clawiness. He poured himself a nice cup of brew to help him relax.

One of his dogs flew through the window, smashing the kitchen table to pieces before he could place his cup down. Blood ran from an open wound on its side. A claw wound. Before Papa Dog's eyes, his loyal pet began to transform, its fur receding, and its teeth shortening.

It was a werehuman! Two more werehumans, his former animal companions, burst in through the bar entrance. Papa ran for the staircase up into his bedroom. As he reached the top, the door flew open and Fido, also a werehuman, stabbed him in the chest with a candlestick (the bartender wished he had not been too frugal for the fancy silver variant). Blood spurted from him as he tumbled to the bottom.

The three werehumans down here were waiting for him. Their bare feet came down on him, kicking him again and again. Fluffy caught him in the mouth. He bit down hard, taking off a toe, his silver teeth causing the wound to burn. Fluffy wailed in pain, surprising his fellows. Papa crawled into the bar. Blood poured from his mouth.

His hands found the weapon behind the counter. His gun, loaded with silver bullets (formed from pieces of jewelry he'd been looting from his neighbours who had run off). He fired the revolver twice, sending Polar Bear and Frog to oblivion. Two more and Fluffy joined them. Fido's head came clear off as he rounded the corner.

Papa Dog stumbled through the bar, leaning against a stool as two large, hairy figures approached him. The werewolves! So Muro wasn't one of them after all! They gave him a look as cold as death, and he felt the hunger. He was beginning to be able to communicate with them. He was becoming one of them!

"Never!" he shouted, jamming the revolver into his chin.

When morning came, Xiao entered the bar early. She was shocked at what she saw. The man she had once known and loved, brave Papa Dog, was dead, an empty revolver in his lap. His brains were splattered across the side of the bar. Behind, in the place he lived, were his four dogs, mutilated beyond repair.

There were five left. Only three were human.

 

By the time the next person arrived at the bar, Xiao had managed to give Papa Dog some semblance of dignity, laid across the polished bartop under a simple white sheet. She sat on the end of the bar, silvered razor in hand, several deep but straight gashes in her arm saying all too much about what her activities had been.

 

Not to pressure anybody, but you have one day left, and if a wolf does not get lynched, they win by majority.