Posted May 01, 2014
This is the thread for GOG Forum Mafia game #20, which is an Assassin in the Palace variant game. Please do not post in this thread unless you are a participant in the game.
Game rules ‘borrowed’ and slightly adapted from JoeSapphire, whom I’m sure ‘borrowed’ them from lots of other people.
Rules:
1. CSPVG is the moderator of this game. His word is law.
2. If you have any questions or requests don’t be shy to speak up. This can be done by either PMing directly, or asking/ requesting something in the game thread. All requests and questions in the thread, however, must be in bold.
3. All votes should be bolded, e.g Vote: CSPVG. If you are currently voting for one player and would like to vote for another, you are required to unvote. Unvotes must also be bolded, e.g. Unvote: CSPVG. You may only vote for one living player at a time. If a player receives the majority of votes, they will be lynched with immediate effect. The ‘dusk’ phase (explained bellow) will then commence.
4. Unlike most mafia games, Assassin in the Palace is a nightless set up. Once someone has been lynched achieved, the ‘dusk’ phase comes into effect. This is simply the time between my acknowledgement of a majority vote and the appearance of a flavour post confirming it. Players may not post during this time. They may begin posting again after the flavour post has been uploaded.
5. Once you’ve been lynched, you are dead. As a dead person, you have some trouble communicating with the living. Therefore it would be a good idea to stop posting entirely once you’ve been killed.
6. Do not edit your posts. Editing your post may result in a modkill. Please be aware that you should not post multiply times within ten minutes. This will cause the forum to merge your posts, which will result in them being listed as ‘edited’. This too may result in a modkill.
7. Do not paraphrase too directly from or directly quote your role PM.
8. This is game #20’s thread and as such all discussion, voting or other game related activity must occur within this thread or through PM’s sent to or from the moderator.
9. Every player is obliged to post at least once every 72 hours. If a player does not post a message within that space of time, they will receive a prod from the moderator. Furthermore, if you as a player believe for whatever reason that you will not be able to post for an extended period of time, or even if you can no longer participate in the game, please notify the moderator in game thread or via PM.
10. Mafia is a game based on argumentation. People will most likely question your sincerity, talk to you in a belligerent or sometimes accusatory manner, or poke fun at some of the things you will say. The reverse of this, of course, is that players should not sink to the depths of personally insulting one another. It’s a game, have fun.
Our Actors:
1.cmdr_flashheart, went out for cigarettes day 1, was a Guard.
2.flubbucket, taken by the elves day 7, was a Guard.
3.Krypsyn
4.TwilightBard, questioned his role choices day 6, was a Guard.
5.SirPrimalform, was squirted with a water gun day 4, was a Guard.
6.RWarehall
7.JoeSapphire, went to go and seek a great perhaps, was replaced by Vitek, who walked the electric dark day 5, was a Guard.
8.01kipper
9.Ixamyakxim
10.Robbeasy
11.nmillar, rode off into the sunset day 3, was a Guard.
12.A_Future_Pilot
13.DarkoD13
14.amok, was wanded to 'death' day 2, was a Guard.
15.JMich
The Flavour:
The crowd was growing mutinous. Thirty minutes of sitting in the dark and waiting had caused a great many of them to leave, vowing that they would never again attend a performance by the Ferdydurke Community Theatre Company.
Those that had stayed were beginning to whisper about the possibility of storming the stage (to what end none of them knew), when on came the stage lights and out walked a man dressed in a patchwork jester’s costume. From the centre of the brown-green-pink-blue headpiece stuck a face that had about it all the beauty and charm of the nether regions of a dog. He spoke, “Howdy.”
Someone demanded very loudly of their significant other, “What was the ticket price again!?” and the whole auditorium burst into curses and threats and questions. The man on stage just stood there smiling, and did so until everyone stared at him, feeling more and more uncomfortable. Finally, quiet was restored and the crowd’s anger seemed to ebb away.
“I am Crispin Spencer Percival Vander Goude, and I will be your announcer tonight,” he said. “And tonight is a very special night, ladies and gents, because we have for you a nearly forgotten work by the English playwright Edward Crump.
“The play itself is entitled The Tragedy of the Killings in Pift: A Debate, and is an exemplar of both early science fiction and experimental theatre,” the man was warming to his subject now, and he barrelled on. “For tonight, our players shall be the playwrights, because everything but for this,” here he indicated a scroll attached to his belt, “is decided by our players as the play progresses. They’ll be doing the dialogue off the top of their heads, and even deciding where the story goes.”
The crowd shifted into its mode of a few moments ago. They were no longer quiet. There was a shout from somewhere in the darkened house of, “Well, then Crump didn’t write a bloody play, did he!” and a couple got up and left, saying something about a refund.
The man nonchalantly took the scroll from his belt, unrolled it and read, “Twenty years had the people of Terra’s moon had their King Harold Fweft, a wise and noble lord. There was peace all throughout his kingdom. His people lived in prosperity and happiness until the fateful day in their calendar of the Fifth of Hwupt, 2054.”
A man near the front said, “Get on with it” and the rest of the audience mumbled in assent.
“Yeah, listen,” said the man on stage, “this is pretty long, and you’ve all been waiting for quite a bit.” He indicated the scroll, turning it to the crowd to show them that it was actually twenty pages stapled together. “So I’ll give you the short of it.
“Well you see,” the man explained. “The King’s Auditor of Swimming Pools is murdered, because all the aliens kind of look the same, so the king isn’t different from anyone, nor is the assassin, and he thought that the Auditor was the King. So what the king does is get the most trustworthy people in the city together to protect him because their society is so peaceful that they’ve never needed things like soldiers or guards, but little does he know that one of them is the assassin.
“Which kind of ties in with the whole experimental aspect, because only certain of our performers know which one of the performers is the king, but not which one of them are guards or which one of them is the assassin.”
“Doesn’t that mean that they’re just playing some stupid game up on stage?” asked an old women.
The man smiled down at them again and simply walked off the stage. The curtains opened, and for a second they were all in an alien King’s court. Then they began to see that the pillars were simply cardboard cut outs painted white, that the wall was a sheet that hung across the back of the stage with windows painted onto it (the windows appeared to look out onto a star filled sky), and that the extra-terrestrials were merely bored looking men and women in leotards and conical hats sitting around a sizable kitchen table. Upon the table sat a monitor that looked as if it came from somewhere south of nineteen-ninety. On its screen flashed the pixelated face of a man, which change its expression every now and then from what appeared to be a cross look into one of comical bemusement.
Then one of the actors said…
Game rules ‘borrowed’ and slightly adapted from JoeSapphire, whom I’m sure ‘borrowed’ them from lots of other people.
Rules:
1. CSPVG is the moderator of this game. His word is law.
2. If you have any questions or requests don’t be shy to speak up. This can be done by either PMing directly, or asking/ requesting something in the game thread. All requests and questions in the thread, however, must be in bold.
3. All votes should be bolded, e.g Vote: CSPVG. If you are currently voting for one player and would like to vote for another, you are required to unvote. Unvotes must also be bolded, e.g. Unvote: CSPVG. You may only vote for one living player at a time. If a player receives the majority of votes, they will be lynched with immediate effect. The ‘dusk’ phase (explained bellow) will then commence.
4. Unlike most mafia games, Assassin in the Palace is a nightless set up. Once someone has been lynched achieved, the ‘dusk’ phase comes into effect. This is simply the time between my acknowledgement of a majority vote and the appearance of a flavour post confirming it. Players may not post during this time. They may begin posting again after the flavour post has been uploaded.
5. Once you’ve been lynched, you are dead. As a dead person, you have some trouble communicating with the living. Therefore it would be a good idea to stop posting entirely once you’ve been killed.
6. Do not edit your posts. Editing your post may result in a modkill. Please be aware that you should not post multiply times within ten minutes. This will cause the forum to merge your posts, which will result in them being listed as ‘edited’. This too may result in a modkill.
7. Do not paraphrase too directly from or directly quote your role PM.
8. This is game #20’s thread and as such all discussion, voting or other game related activity must occur within this thread or through PM’s sent to or from the moderator.
9. Every player is obliged to post at least once every 72 hours. If a player does not post a message within that space of time, they will receive a prod from the moderator. Furthermore, if you as a player believe for whatever reason that you will not be able to post for an extended period of time, or even if you can no longer participate in the game, please notify the moderator in game thread or via PM.
10. Mafia is a game based on argumentation. People will most likely question your sincerity, talk to you in a belligerent or sometimes accusatory manner, or poke fun at some of the things you will say. The reverse of this, of course, is that players should not sink to the depths of personally insulting one another. It’s a game, have fun.
Our Actors:
1.cmdr_flashheart, went out for cigarettes day 1, was a Guard.
2.flubbucket, taken by the elves day 7, was a Guard.
3.Krypsyn
4.TwilightBard, questioned his role choices day 6, was a Guard.
5.SirPrimalform, was squirted with a water gun day 4, was a Guard.
6.RWarehall
7.JoeSapphire, went to go and seek a great perhaps, was replaced by Vitek, who walked the electric dark day 5, was a Guard.
8.01kipper
9.Ixamyakxim
10.Robbeasy
11.nmillar, rode off into the sunset day 3, was a Guard.
12.A_Future_Pilot
13.DarkoD13
14.amok, was wanded to 'death' day 2, was a Guard.
15.JMich
The Flavour:
The crowd was growing mutinous. Thirty minutes of sitting in the dark and waiting had caused a great many of them to leave, vowing that they would never again attend a performance by the Ferdydurke Community Theatre Company.
Those that had stayed were beginning to whisper about the possibility of storming the stage (to what end none of them knew), when on came the stage lights and out walked a man dressed in a patchwork jester’s costume. From the centre of the brown-green-pink-blue headpiece stuck a face that had about it all the beauty and charm of the nether regions of a dog. He spoke, “Howdy.”
Someone demanded very loudly of their significant other, “What was the ticket price again!?” and the whole auditorium burst into curses and threats and questions. The man on stage just stood there smiling, and did so until everyone stared at him, feeling more and more uncomfortable. Finally, quiet was restored and the crowd’s anger seemed to ebb away.
“I am Crispin Spencer Percival Vander Goude, and I will be your announcer tonight,” he said. “And tonight is a very special night, ladies and gents, because we have for you a nearly forgotten work by the English playwright Edward Crump.
“The play itself is entitled The Tragedy of the Killings in Pift: A Debate, and is an exemplar of both early science fiction and experimental theatre,” the man was warming to his subject now, and he barrelled on. “For tonight, our players shall be the playwrights, because everything but for this,” here he indicated a scroll attached to his belt, “is decided by our players as the play progresses. They’ll be doing the dialogue off the top of their heads, and even deciding where the story goes.”
The crowd shifted into its mode of a few moments ago. They were no longer quiet. There was a shout from somewhere in the darkened house of, “Well, then Crump didn’t write a bloody play, did he!” and a couple got up and left, saying something about a refund.
The man nonchalantly took the scroll from his belt, unrolled it and read, “Twenty years had the people of Terra’s moon had their King Harold Fweft, a wise and noble lord. There was peace all throughout his kingdom. His people lived in prosperity and happiness until the fateful day in their calendar of the Fifth of Hwupt, 2054.”
A man near the front said, “Get on with it” and the rest of the audience mumbled in assent.
“Yeah, listen,” said the man on stage, “this is pretty long, and you’ve all been waiting for quite a bit.” He indicated the scroll, turning it to the crowd to show them that it was actually twenty pages stapled together. “So I’ll give you the short of it.
“Well you see,” the man explained. “The King’s Auditor of Swimming Pools is murdered, because all the aliens kind of look the same, so the king isn’t different from anyone, nor is the assassin, and he thought that the Auditor was the King. So what the king does is get the most trustworthy people in the city together to protect him because their society is so peaceful that they’ve never needed things like soldiers or guards, but little does he know that one of them is the assassin.
“Which kind of ties in with the whole experimental aspect, because only certain of our performers know which one of the performers is the king, but not which one of them are guards or which one of them is the assassin.”
“Doesn’t that mean that they’re just playing some stupid game up on stage?” asked an old women.
The man smiled down at them again and simply walked off the stage. The curtains opened, and for a second they were all in an alien King’s court. Then they began to see that the pillars were simply cardboard cut outs painted white, that the wall was a sheet that hung across the back of the stage with windows painted onto it (the windows appeared to look out onto a star filled sky), and that the extra-terrestrials were merely bored looking men and women in leotards and conical hats sitting around a sizable kitchen table. Upon the table sat a monitor that looked as if it came from somewhere south of nineteen-ninety. On its screen flashed the pixelated face of a man, which change its expression every now and then from what appeared to be a cross look into one of comical bemusement.
Then one of the actors said…
Post edited May 12, 2014 by CSPVG
