London Mafia - SCORES ARE IN - See you in London 2

[London Mod]

Ahhh, it's good to see the game revived.

I'm in charge now.

[London Mod]

Okay, the OP is updated. We didn't lose a single post .

We'll PM Darkblade and Green Crayons and we'll replace all the players who haven't been online since the crash.

Let the game continue, lads.

[London Mod]

Moving to replace the four names still on red:

Arminger
Doomcow
Mikegoo
Porro

Will then replace Darkblade if necessary.

[London Mod]

Roles sent.

[London Mod]

Welcome back, Porro.
You have not been replaced.

We shall resume the game where it had stopped.

[London Mod]

Untrod Tripod is replacing Arminger.

That's it for now. Game resumes - we'll replace Darkblade if necessary, but I think he'll show up soon.

[London Mod]

Quagmire is replacing Darkblade.

- All roles accounted for.

Feel free to lynch someone. The baddies will be after you tonight anyway...

[London Mod]

Quagmire: role sent. (Please confirm here).

And the thread is yours for good, people of London.

[London Mod]

Sunset minus six hours...

[London Mod]

"Hmm. John Smith, John Smith..."

On a hunch, Sherlock Holmes had spent the rest of the afternoon searching London's archives for John Smith. He remembered what Night Stalker had said to convince the crowd... The way he had addressed his attackers... There was definitely something familiar about Night Stalker.

Or was it just the name ?

And there were more than one John Smith...

As it happened, the wedding records of Sherlock's own grandparents established, without the shadow of a doubt, that the brides' father's name had also been John Smith.

But Murphy's law for genealogists had told him so - before he checked.

Sherlock puffed long and thoughtfully on his pipe.

"Hmmm. Murphy's laws. What do they teach us ?"

He remembered the joke of a German banker during a dinner in Berlin...

"In einer Schlüsselposition jedes Stammbaums findet man unweigerlich einen John Smith aus London

", the man had said.

So in every city... One should expect to find a John Smith from London at a key position... And that certainly included London itself !!!

Hmm.

Anyway - Murphy's Law was telling him that something had gone wrong.
Yes. He was convinced now. The town had lynched another innocent.

You have lynched John Smith, a townie. It is night. Please submit your choices by Thursday, 2:00PM, scum time.

[London Mod]

A night to remember.

It had been the longest and most dreadful night in the history of the City. The streets were as black as Chinese ink, and a long moan, incredibly sad, could be heard somewhere in the distance - beyond the fog, perhaps ?

Hours, and hours, and hours. They had been sitting in that little room for hours, discussing the challenges ahead, sharing their hopes and fears, when the door suddenly opened.
And there he was. They had been waiting for him. And he had finally come.

'You know who I am, and you know why I'm here.'

They nodded and smiled.

*****

Murder in the cathedral ?

'What a cold night', the Duke of Kent thought to himself. He was walking fast - no time to lose, the documents had to be stored in a safe place.

It was well past 1:00 am when he reached the doors of the Grand Lodge's masonic temple near Oxford street. He searched for the massive keys in his pockets, and entered. And then he remembered: he had left his apron in one of the temple's cupboards. '

Without an apron, there is no mason

', he thought.

He finally made his way to the temple's most secret chamber, and walked towards the altar. He would conceal the plans there...

'What's this ?' a voice asked.

'Wh... What ? WHO ARE YOU ? IGNORANT PROFANE, PUT IT DOWN !'

'Is it a compass ? Looks like a compass'.

'PUT IT DOWN AND LEAVE - NOW !'.

Alas. His apron, his sacred shield of defense, would not protect him this time. The compass found the flesh, the hand took the documents, and the righteous Duke of Kent met his fate near the altar.

*****

Moments later, an ominous figure walked out of the masonic Temple.
Harry Sutton was pleased, but his master would be even more pleased.
He would get a nice reward for the secret documents. And then he would find his sister, somewhere in the city. Maybe they could buy a house together ? Harry had always dreamed of having a family - but then again, his work did not really allow him to create a new family for himself, right ? So at least he would have his old family, or part of it.

And he would buy a dog too.

Speaking of dogs, there was this beautiful, dark dog, with magnificient red eyes, staring at him - just a few meters from him.

'I think he likes me', Harry thought.

'Nice dog. Nice', he said, as he approached the animal, smiling.

Green Crayons

, the Duke Of Kent, mason, compassed to death in the Temple,

Quagmire

, Harry Sutton, mafia, killed by the Hound.


It is now day - vote away !

[London Mod]

Most certainly...

Untrod Tripod: 3

(Dragon Slayer, Dourgrim, Indentureddjinn)

Indentureddjinn: 1

(CaptainBlicero)

16 alive, 9 to lynch.

[London Mod]

Jack The Ripper's Waterloo

And so the Town drags Indentureddjinn to Waterloo Bridge.

'String him up'

, some women shout. Indentureddjinn tries to speak, but the rope is already tied around his neck, and he is brutally put to death.

- 'I will never understand this city', says a voice with a terrible Dutch accent.
- 'Neither will I. People here seem so... unhappy', answers a voice with a horrible French accent. 'Too much fish and chips, not enough French food, if you'll know my view.'
- 'Why do you think he claimed Jack The Ripper, Leo ?'
- 'Well I don't know, Cadmium. He could have claimed... anything...'
- 'Like, say, Queen Victoria...'
- '...Dickens...'
- '...Charles Darwin...'
- '...Or he could have claimed doc... Wait he WAS a doc, right ?'
- 'Indeed, Leo; all he had to do was

claim his real name

...'

The two strangers stop and look up at Indentureddjinn's inanimate body, up in the misty sky.

So dies the respectable Dr Charles Meadows, a talented doctor, known for curing the ailments of Dukes and beggars alike, with no discrimination. Alas. At night, he would indeed succumb to his schizophrenia, and wander through the streets of London, hoping to find a woman to stab to death.

You have killed Dr Charles Meadows/Jack The Ripper - Doc/SK. It is night - Choices due Friday, midnight, scum time.

[London Mod]

The Death of Lestrade

'

Scum, scum, scum

', Lestrade thought to himself. He had investigated yet another clear culprit. It was a great luck for London that Scotland Yard was in such good hands.

Why Sherlock Holmes had never taken him seriously as a detective, he hesitated to guess. Jealousy, perhaps - ?

Anyway. His last investigation result would shock and amaze the town. How would the crowd react when he would reveal the identity of the mastermind behind all the murders ? They would cheer. They would rejoice. They would carry him to Buckingham Palace on their shoulders.

And there, the Queen Herself...

He smiled. Forget the Queen. Sherlock, Sherlock was the rival.
Hmmm. He was ready to give... say... five... no... ten shillings, just to see the disappointment,

no no

, the

envy

on his face.

Alas. He would never see it. A man was standing a few feet from his desk in his house's library. Lestrade raised his eyes and awaited his death with a strange calm, and the satisfaction of knowing he had outwitted the greatest detective of all times.

Totem - Inspector Lestrade - shot.

It is day. With 14 alive, it takes 8 votes to lynch someone in front of Buckingham Palace.

[London Mod]

Hmmm.

Jalyn has been PM'ed.
I will be looking for a replacement, just in case.

[London Mod]

Talitha is replacing Jalyn.
Role sent.

Please confirm here, Talitha.

[London Mod]

Current vote tally:

2 Jalyn/Talitha (MeMe, Dragon Slayer)
1 Dragon Slayer (Untrod Tripod)

~~marker~~

With 14 alive, it takes 8 votes to lynch someone in front of Buckingham Palace.
No deadline yet.

[London Mod]

Current vote tally:

3 Talitha (MeMe, Dragon Slayer, CaptainBlicero)
1 Dragon Slayer (Untrod Tripod)
1 MeMe (Talitha)

Last posting dates:

Code: Select all

Arminger/Untrod Tripod 06 Nov 2003 12:05 am
CaptainBlicero         06 Nov 2003 04:24 am
d8p                    04 Nov 2003 01:00 am
DoomCow/massive        06 Nov 2003 06:40 am
Dourgrim               04 Nov 2003 09:19 pm
Dragon Slayer          05 Nov 2003 03:08 am
Jalyn/Talitha          06 Nov 2003 08:19 am
Norinel                06 Nov 2003 01:05 am
Kelvin                 20 Sep 2003 08:32 am
Korais666              26 Oct 2003 09:42 pm
MeMe                   06 Nov 2003 04:46 am
Porro                  20 Oct 2003 01:10 pm
rite                   04 Nov 2003 01:05 pm
Werebear               06 Nov 2003 03:29 am

~~marker~~

With 14 alive, it takes 8 votes to lynch.
No deadline yet.
Kelvin will be replaced.

[London Mod]

DragonPhoenix is replacing Kelvin.

Please confirm here, DP.

[London Mod]

Role sent.

[London Mod]

Current vote tally:

4 Untrod Tripod (Dragon Slayer, Dragon Phoenix, MeMe, Talitha)
1 Talitha (CaptainBlicero)
1 Dragon Slayer (Untrod Tripod)

Last posting dates:

Code: Select all

Arminger/Untrod Tripod 12 Nov 2003 03:12 am
CaptainBlicero         12 Nov 2003 05:40 am
d8p                    08 Nov 2003 05:18 pm
DoomCow/massive        07 Nov 2003 07:01 am
Dourgrim               04 Nov 2003 09:19 pm
Dragon Slayer          12 Nov 2003 04:11 am
Jalyn/Talitha          12 Nov 2003 10:17 am
Norinel                11 Nov 2003 01:56 pm
Kelvin/Dragon Phoenix  11 Nov 2003 07:47 pm
Korais666              12 Nov 2003 02:33 am
MeMe                   12 Nov 2003 06:18 am
Porro                  20 Oct 2003 01:10 pm
rite                   04 Nov 2003 01:05 pm
Werebear               12 Nov 2003 06:32 am

~~marker~~

With 14 alive, it takes 8 votes to lynch.
No deadline yet.

[London Mod]

Chapter 12: Hound the Morans

Once more, I was sitting in my living room, feeling all weird. I was trying to forget all the things that were happening in London. All the kills, the mob activities, the loss of my great friend Dr. Watson. Last night, I had some hope again, when Dr. Charles Meadows had confessed killing those women. I couldn't help wondering whether he was responsible for Mrs. Watson's death or not. Anyway, that man was taken care of. Maybe things would get better. But this evening, something told me we weren't quite done with evil. Call it a hunch, or whatever you like, I just knew something was happening.

Not being able to resist the urge to take a look on the steets, I came out of my favorite chair, put on my coat and went for the door. As I opened it, I noticed it was raining again. I took an umbrella from the coat stand on my right, walked outside and closed the door. At the end of Bakerstreet, I noticed two people walking in the direction of Buckingham Palace. I decided to catch up with them. Maybe they knew what was going on. It was really hard to keep up with their speed. They seemed to be in a hurry.

"Excuse me, may I ask where you are heading?", I asked.

"But of course, good sir.", one of them replied.

The other one looked at me as if we had met before.

"We are on our way to Buckingham Palace."

"What's going on over there? Does it have to do with the Royal Family?"

The other one answered: "Nothing like such thing. There's a mob meeting in five minutes. If we hurry, we'll be there in time. Would you care to join us?"

I agreed and followed them. I figured it would be best to be there should the situation go out of hand. When we arrived at the front gates of the palace, I saw that there had already gathered quite a few people. They were arguing together about what the next logical step would be. Then, all suspicion seemed to fall on a person standing inside the group. Others took him and started asking questions.

"You're Oliver Clay, right? Or did you make that up too?"

"No, I am Oliver Clay. I never lied about that ...", the man answered.

"But?", one of the mob asked, after noticing he didn't finish his sentence.

"Uhm ... okay. I have to confess something. Please don't get mad. I didn't tell you everything. I'm also a serial killer. I send out my hound every other night to get someone killed."

"Another serial killer? That's it! Your finished.", the crowd shouts.

"Wait! Why are you doing this? I never intended to hurt you people. I can help you."

"So you're saying you actually work like a vigilante?"

"That's it.", the man says, "I always get those two things mixed up. You know, at first I confused mafia with scum too. Now I know those two are complete different things."

But the mob didn't fall for it. They gathered around him and I could hear a lot of shouting. I knew right then and there, that this man would never survive the night. I took some distance from the crowd and waited until things calmed down. It took quite a while before the group split up and everyone started walking in different directions. And there he lay, victim of an angry London. I walked up to him and looked for his wallet. I discovered it inside his coat and took it out. Inside the wallet, I found a card with his name on it. It was indeed Oliver Clay. I put his wallet back and noticed something else in his pocket. It was a letter. At the bottom, it was signed Colonel Sebastian Moran.

After failing to find any usefull clues in the letter, I went to the nearest main street around the palace in order to take a cab home. A lot of people on the streets seemed really happy. My guess was that they came from the mob meeting and were confident that the hound killings were finally put to an end. And I couldn't help but feel a little happy myself. It's always good to rid yourself of a member of the 'Moran' family. With that thought, I stopped a cab and opened it's door. I climbed in and took a seat after giving directions to the coachman. Then right before I closed the door, I heard it. Off in the faint distance, borne on the wind, came to my ears ... the howling of a hound.

Untrod Tripod - Oliver Clay (mafia) - lynched by the town.

It is night. Choices due next Monday, midnight, scum time.

[London Mod]

Chapter 12 bis: A different - and sicker - perspective (the horrible details you did not want to read about the lynching)

When I see a lynching mob and a victim, I do not see coincidence, I see Providence. I see... Purpose.

Lynch scene it is then - in front of Buckingham Palace.

It was a beautiful afternoon in London ('Hey Leo, this can't possibly happen' 'Oh give me a break, Cad,

there is no spoon

'), and Untrod Tripod was enjoying the gentle weather. The sun was bathing his face in warmth and tenderness, and he was slowly falling in love with the Universe.

But they were watching him.

- 'I believe he's the one...', a voice said behind him.
- 'What ? What do you mean ?'
- 'Yesss... He's the one...'
- 'Huh ? I'm just another guy, sorry'

Untrod Tripod tried to remain humble in front of the now fast-gathering crowd of admirers.

- 'No, noooo, you're the one to be lynched today....'

Untrod Tripod ran for his life - to Buckingham Palace ('How convenient, Leo...''Shhh'). There, he would beg for the Queen's Pardon. If she refused, he could propose to bargain what he knew about the documents in exchange for his life. ('See? See?').

At the Palace's gate, the guards gazed with amazement at the nearing cloud of dust, until they saw the crowd. 'It's a revolt', a soldier yelled. 'No, it is a revolution. Close the gates at once, we must protect Her Majesty'.

'READY...', an officer yelled.

The crowd was growing bigger and bigger, but Untrod Tripod had almost reached the gates.

'AIM !!!!'

'MERCY !', Untrod Tripod yelled, shaking the gate with his both hands.

Someone punched him in the back and he felt to the ground.

The last image Untrod Tripod would have from this world would be the angry and maddened mob Untrospecting his Tripe - with the guards watching, horrified.

But then again, are we not all looking for answers ?

Untrod Tripod - Oliver Clay (mafia) - lynched by the Town.
It is now night. Please send in your night choices before Monday the 17th, midnight, scum time.

[London Mod]

Chapter 13: Moriarty's Final Problem.

'DAMN !'.

For the second night in a row, his door was blocked from the outside.

Professor Moriarty walked to the fireplace and stared at the red flames.
What to do ? Colonel Moran had died before he had a chance to contact him. As to his gang itself... What to do ? If only he could somehow take control of the Hound... But first things first. Who was blocking his door night after night ?

"

Watson, I could not sit quiet in my chair, if I thought that such a man as Professor Moriarty were walking the streets of London unchallenged

", Sherlock Holmes used to tell his doctor-friend. Could it be Holmes ??

DAMN !

Suddenly, the wind blew under Professor Moriarty's door - and he instinctively grabbed a poker. ''Tis just the wind", he thought to himself.
But the wind had brought a strange gift: a letter, in a delicate, pink envelope.

Moriarty tore it open.

My Dear Professor Moriarty, -- You really did it very well. I had been warned against you months ago. But still, you were able to outwit me for a long time. Even after I became suspicious, I found it hard to think evil of you.

But, you know, I have been trained as an actress myself.

I first thought the best resource was flight, when pursued by so formidable an antagonist. But I finally decided to accept the challenge.

I did not know your address, so I followed you to your door; I then had a few street boys fix it so you do not trouble our friendly community at night. I guess they will not find the nest empty tomorrow morning when they check on you.

I leave you a photograph which you might care to possess; and I remain, dear Professor,

Very truly yours,

I.N.

'DAMN !'

Moriarty ran to the window, and smashed it open with the poker.

'A locked door will not prevent me from doing my work'

, he thought.

But as he finally managed to climb out of the window and started walking down the street, he noticed that strange dog, just a few feet from him. Its eyes were as red as flames.

'But then again, perhaps this will'

, he sighed.

MeMe - Professor Moriarty, Napoleon of Crime - killed by the Hound.

It is day. 12 alive, 7 to lynch. Vote away !

[London Mod]

Agreed. Korais666 has been PMed.

[London Mod]

Current vote tally:

5 Korais666 (Dragon Phoenix, d8p, CaptainBlicero, Talitha, Dragon Slayer)

~~marker~~

12 alive, 7 votes to lynch.
No deadline yet.

[London Mod]

And that is seven.

Death scene pending - Leo gets to write it.

Leo ? LEO ???

[London Mod]

WHAT ?

[London Mod]

The death scene is all yours, mate.

[London Mod]

Alrighty. Lynch scene it is, then.

[London Mod]

Chapter 14: Epilogue

It was a dark and bitterly cold night. His clothes were stained with dust and dirty snow, and his face was extremely pale. However, Mr Stapleton was overwhelmed with satisfaction, and his eyes sparkled with intense joy.

He arrived at Waterloo Station at eight o'clock, and headed straight towards platform two - the Southampton line.

The Southampton express was ready to leave - a few porters were busy loading a Lady's luggage in the first class wagon. Stapleton decided to wait a little before getting in the train. He would sit one last time on one of these fine London benches. After all, benches in South America were quite less comfortable. Besides - he deserved a moment of triumph.

He sat down and opened his suitcase. His eyes found the two envelopes he had carefully stored inside.

The first envelope would make him rich: the enclosed documents proved that he was, without the shadow of a doubt, the last Baskerville alive.
As the only heir to the Baskerville domain and possessions, he would claim them - from Argentina. He would obtain the fortune without ever returning to England at all.

The second envelope would make him even richer. He had seized the Duke's secret documents by chance - on the body of one of Moriarty's thugs. He would have all major powers bid for them.

His Hound had served him well. Too bad he had had to shoot the poor beast before coming to the station - after all, he had only bought one ticket.

There was a general clearing. Stapleton picked up his suitcase and was about to start off into the darkness when a stranger accosted him.

'You killed my Duke and Grandmaster. Die'

.

It was Dragon Phoenix.

'Stop him, stop him !'

Korais666 ran along the platform.

'LYNCH HIM !'

, Irene Adler shouted.

'POLICE - STOP HIM!!!'

, Wiggins, Sam, and the two Holmes yelled.
Sherlock and Mycroft managed to throw Korais to the floor.
Ellen Sutton picked up the suitcase, and handed it to the three Scotland Yard inspectors who had appeared on the platform.

'I think these gentlemen have some questions for you', Sherlock concluded. 'As to you all, my dear friends, thank you for your help in putting these crimes to an end... And please - follow me to Baker Street, for I believe we deserve some sort of celebration !'

TOWN WINS ! CONGRATULATIONS !

[London Mod]

- scoring imminent -

[London Mod]

Hey Cadmium!

How are those scores coming along, old chum?

[London Mod]

Don't worry, my friend. Don't worry.

I'm almost done here. It's a matter of minutes.

[London Mod]

You know what I told you, right? Don't force me ...

[London Mod]

Well, actually, you're making me a little curious here ... Oh, all right then.

[London Mod]

Confirm these are the final scores.

Let's have tea, Cad, Leo.

[London Mod]

Norinel: I'll see what I can do

Scoring: it was really very difficult for us to come up with an estimate of scores. We tried our best. Also, we chose 'category+goals+selective bonus' over 'individual score' - a method that allowed us to boost a few players, but, I agree, does not fully reflect each and every individual contribution.

As they are, we feel the scores are consistent. Korais gets 11 points, (he was actually a mere mafia thug, in a small family, attacking only once every second night); Norinel is strong too, and was a simple townie, made weaker by her indirect link to the mafia.

By all means, we are open to all suggestions for the next game.

On the game:
As you probably discovered after reading the roles - the Town's job was far from easy. Townies were named, but were

REALLY

townies ! Which should have made the mafia's job much easier in terms of role-claiming / getting innocents lynched.

As to the story itself, everything depended on the Moran family sending signals to Moriarty early on. Had this taken place, the Moran mafia would have been formidable, and Moriarty, protected by his thugs, could really have devastated the Town. (btw: Only Sherlock could get a 'guilty' result on Moriarty, and then he would have to wait the next night to receive the info).

[London Mod]

Needless to say: you can imagine the consequences for both sides - in terms of scoring - if the mafia wins a game.