The Molag Bal Game XVII

[Dirty Spaceman]

"I'll vote with you," said Darba. "If you're right, then today we might save this village rather than see its doom. I change my vote to Tatur."

[Taters]

"Runs-With-Dunmer, did you not say that Darba had the blood of our fellows on his hands? Why would you say such a thing, and then vote for someone else? It would seem to me that you are less trying to eliminate the foul cultists and more that you're trying to turn everybody on each other. You also make an awful lot of pronouncements of innocence. Maybe too many. I vote for you, then, Runs-With-Dunmer, and I hope my fellows are wise enough to see what you're trying to do."

[The-Shadow-One]

"Runs with Dunmer certainly acts suspicious.. Mhmm.. Casting doubts and shadows on us all.. Mhmm.. This one changes his vote. Runs-With-Dunmer gets this one's vote." One-Shadow said simply, a soft look over them all. "This one hopes that we are right."

[ArgonianDunmer]

"And so my feint has succeeded," Runs-with-Dunmer announced. "I know the worshippers cannot slay me in the night, yet to attack me in plain sight without reason would raise no measureless amount of suspicion. All three of you this day have been under my watch, and your actions have been most telling."

She turned to Darba, "It seems there is at least one amongst us who I owe an apology for the accusations today necessitated that I make in order to draw out Bal's servants."

Then, turning to Tatur, "This deadlock cannot hold. If the two of you will vote for One-Shadow we may yet see justice done."

[Dirty Spaceman]

"Thank you, Runs-With-Dunmer," said Darba. "I'm willing to switch my vote back to One-Shadow if you do, but Tatur, your vote is needed to break the tie."

[Taters]

Tatur thought for a while, scratching his whiskered chin/

"I cannot claim to understand your line of reasoning, Runs-With-Dunmer, nor your desire to "feint". However, if this brings us a chance to stand united against the cultists, than so be it. I switch my vote to One-Shadow."

[The-Shadow-One]

One-Shadow felt the final nail drive into his coffin. "T..Tratiors.. This one is not a cultist.. but this one.. submits.. to will of others.. if you believe this one to be evil... Only when you find this one innocent.." A soft murmur as he curled his arms around himself.

[ArgonianDunmer]

"It seems to me that Darba and Tatur are not both worshippers, and that is enough for me at this stage. If you truly are innocent, then know that your death will have secured your fellows' lives, but that had you paid heed to my words rather than resist them you may yet have lived. Although I cannot help but feel that I too am being played this day, I must now cast my vote for One-Shadow."

[Dirty Spaceman]

"And now so shall I, like I promised," said Darba. "One-Shadow, my vote is once again for you. Gods, if we're condemning another innocent... no, no, I won't believe that. One-Shadow is my choice."

[AKB]

Hidden:

As all remaining decisions are either clear or will simply be ineffective, I'm going to run through the last phases automatically.

There were few who still lived that could not take part of the guilt for the destruction of their fair village. One-Shadow was not among them. In truth, he was an entirely righteous person. As he was sent to his death, he could not help but remember a message he had received from one of the now departed. It was a simple message, a simple claim to being a villager, and that if he would use his talents to disable Ba'Lee that the village would be a bit safer. With no way to know if he could trust the sender, he took the advice for what it was worth.

Shadow's trust of that stranger, the now late Mu, was well placed. He put Shadow on the path to taking out one of the true threats to village, for as little good as it did.

The strongest of the village could confront, even defeat the villagers. Yet it did not matter, as their defeat was merely delaying the inevitable. Even though they did not realize it, the remaining villagers were truly champions of the people. Shadow was the terrifying figure in the night who had disabled people when it was most necessary for their mutual survival. Darba was the reluctant assassin, having finally returned to his old trade just in time to kill Ba'Lee, the only cultist that would be brought to justice. And Runs-with-Dunmer was the only one who could have openly opposed them, having completely routed an early attack, and constantly antagonized them into focusing their attention onto her.

If, by some chance discovery of each other, they would have been a powerful resistance, capable of defeating the enemy outright. But it was not meant to be. As Shadow fell, so did a fatal shadow fall upon the Uthenni.

One-Shadow has died in the false pursuit of justice. He was innocent until the end, and was in fact:

The Martial Artist - This character is an expert at beating enemies to a pulp. They can choose to incapacitate another player once per night, disabling their ability to act and vote.

IT IS NOW NIGHT

Once Tatur gro-Jedduh saw life fade from the martial artist, he set off to complete his and Do'vah's work. While that cat slept the last night that mattered away, Tatur went after the last threat open to attack, Darba. He was a sneaky one, waiting until it was clear that Ba'Lee was a cultist to attack. An earlier attack would likely have just helped the cultists in their task of killing off the town. But he had no hope of going unnoticed. Darba's stylistic killing of Ba'Lee made it all too apparent that a member of "The Stalkers of Na-Totambu" had to have done it. Considering that organization only recruited Redguards, and he was the only Redguard on the island, it was clear who was behind the attack.

Darba's home was a simple apple orchard, one of the few sources of fruit and wood on the island. Taking what little supply remained from his forge, Tatur had prepared to turn it all into little more than kindling. But he was not going to burn the Redguard. No, he deserved a more personal treatment. With warhammer in hand, and some armor of his own design, the Orc prepared to confront the assassin.

Tatur approached the farmhouse at the center of the property, not slowing his stride to try to conceal his approach. He reached the door, and still not slowing down, swung with his full force behind his hammer. The door splintered into pieces, not being designed to take a blow from a weapon. He glared into the darkness of the interior, looking for his prey. Tatur marched inside, searching every corner for his query, before promptly smashing them with his warhammer regardless. Room by room, floor by floor, Tatur systematically demolished the building. Yet his sweeps did not reveal Darba. His frustration increased with each pointless swing, his foul mood mirroring the worsening condition of the building. Having returned to the main hall, with the Redguard avoiding detection, Tatur shouted: "Where are you?!?"

"Right behind you." A quiet voice spoke, right before driving a dagger into the Orc's back. The Orc lost a grip on his bludgeon, and did not move an inch after dropping the weapon. He felt the gentle trickle of blood down his back. "I've been tracking the progress of your destruction of my home, but I admit I was surprised that you decided to do it so literally now." Darba said, moving in front of Tatur. "I'm not sure what you were expecting to find. Surely you know who I am? You may fancy yourself some vicious terror, but I am the true killer here. Which, incidentally, brings us to the end of this little sordid affair." He continued. After saying his piece, the Redguard drew another blade from off his person, casually spinning it in his hand before driving it towards the Orc's chest. His attack was cut just short of the Orc's armor plating. Tatur had stirred from his paralysis.

"I know exactly who you are." Tatur spoke up, twisting the dagger out of reach of his body. "It's why I am not crippled by a little bit of your poison, and why you're not going to be leaving this island." He accented this last part by striking the Redguard with all the might his fist could muster. To his credit, the Redguard was still on his feet, and managed to pull himself from his grip as he struck at him. Backing away from the Orc as he looked for an angle of attack, Darba knew his normal strategies would not be effective here. The Orc had similar thoughts on the situation, as he recovered his hammer. The two slowly paced around each other as the building creaked under its own weight.

With the house's constant complaint being ever present, Tatur backed himself into the center of the room, at the most central support beam. He spun around, swinging the warhammer at the column with all of his might. Darba was already sprinting at him mid-swing, realizing his plan moments before it collapsed down onto them.

The building, finally having given away, quickly went about crushing its owner. Movement was impossible inside the total blackness of the wreckage, with Darba completely trapped. To his surprise, he dully heard Tatur once more, struggling through the ruins. Moonlight blinded the Redguard, as the exasperated Orc pulled Darba out from under his home. Picking up his heavily injured foe by his collar, Tatur knew he had won. With his free hand, Tatur grabbed the hilt of the dagger in his back, yanking it out with an audible grunt. The barely conscious Redguard hardly registered it being driven into his skull.

Tatur threw the Redguard down to the ground, pulling out the now bloody dagger from his cranium. Staggering out and over the wreckage, he looked around from some kindling. His search was successful, a nice and dry pile of leaves in a nearby shed would serve him nicely. He set about preparing the deceased assassin's funeral pyre, quickly lighting it with some sparks created through striking the blade against a nearby stone. A moment later, what remained of the property was being overtaken by heat and smoke. As the fires raged, with Darba left in the midst of the flames, Tatur smiled. The flames would not just eradicate the final traces of another villager, but also be the perfect guiding light for their transport off of the rock.

Darba has been killed. He was:

The Assassin - This character was once a renowned member of a society of assassins. As his ability in his trade grew, so did his renown. After a particularly high profile assassination, the other members of his guild made his retire, as the signature style of his kills became too well known. He retired to the village of Uthenni to live out the rest of his days in peace. This peace was shatter when the cultists move in, and in response he contemplated taking matters into his own hands. He was allowed to kill any other player, once per night. However, his notoriety has made his past life well studied by law enforcement agencies in Tamriel, and various cults. If he were to use this ability, he would be exposed to these other elements at work in Uthenni.

Hidden:

While I didn't mention it to him, I did set it up so that if the cultists were to attack him, the cultists would kill him before he could act. So sadly, he would not have been able to use his power to any effect tonight.

It is now day.

Back at the smithy, Do'vah was sleeping off his wounds. He felt the dim warmth of the sun reach his fur, marking a new day. The bucket of water splashed on him a moment later marked the growing frustration of the Orc who had to stay up all night, while a mangy cat slept in his bed. After several moments of spitting and hissing from the unwanted guest, Tatur said two simple words to the confused feline: "We're leaving."

While the sleeper agents went about the preparations for their escape, a large galley had stopped in the mostly obliterated harbor. A moment later, several smaller boats were deployed from its deck, as a number of vessels approached the now largely uninhabited island. The rowing crews made quick work of the opposing current, and they were swiftly to shore. As the vast number of agents made it to the shore, two increasingly anxious figures on the shore called out to them. You can never tell in a Daedric cult whether or not your fellow members were there to help you or to take you out themselves.

The growing group on the beach did not move for the beckoning of their operatives ahead of them. They stood still as stone, with an arsenal of weapons in their various hands. As more boats reached land, and their number increased, the tension experienced by the Orc and Khajiit was becoming audible. Do'vah tried to lure them into saying a thing with some random mumblings, while Tatur grunted out of frustration.

In unison, the growing company of cultists broke in two, as an exorbitantly large person in back-breakingly heavy golden armor marched through the ranks. He stomped forward, easily towering above all around him. Offsetting his beautifully designed armor was the rusted, jagged mace he carried at his shoulder, which cemented his position as a Champion of Molag Bal. Once the Champion had past the ranks of cultists, a handful followed him forward to meet the agents in charge of handling this island.

The only thing louder than the Champion's movement was the absolute silence that followed him stopping. Do'vah and Tatur went completely silent, nonplussed, hardly daring to breathe for fear of offending him. "Where is the last one?" it spoke in a gravelly, otherworldly tone.

"Runs-with-Dunmer. She is holding herself up somewhere on the island, I haven't been able to follow her movements on my own." Tatur spoke up for the two of them. "We lost one of our own, Ba'Lee'Va, two nights prior, and this one," He pointed at Do'vah. "Was too injured to be of any help. Not that I'm exactly the model of good health right now, either." He finished, pointing at the bandaging on his back.

"Your group's failures are well known to us. I was asking if you had proven to be competent enough to detect the last of them, not for an excuse as to why you did not. Remove them from the island, they shall be dealt with after the task is completed." It signaled to its closest followers, who were already on their way to grab Do'vah and Tatur gro-Jedduh. They did not struggle, for at this stage there was no point in trying to resist them. The Champion then signaled the remaining force not escorting their other agents off of the island before saying "Follow."

Do'vah and Tatur have left the island. They were both cultists.

The terrors that had been inflicted onto Uthenni were apparent to even the most oblivious of observers. All of the central structures in the town had been abandoned, if not destroyed. Soot was more common than sand on the beaches, most of the plant-life had been eradicated, the ruins of the village were quickly decaying further. The cultists separated into groups as they probed the village, looking for the missing Argonian.

Runs-with-Dunmer had had the busiest night of her life. She did not know who the killers were, but she knew that by the morning she would be the only villager left. So she went to booby-trapping whatever she could, creating several caches of supplies that she might need, and prepared for the fight of her life. As the fire rose over Darba's orchard, she feared that the last true villager had burned in it, and that now all she could do was fight whatever came at her.

Although she had prepared to fight whoever was still alive for her own life, the arrival of the galley made her heart skip. Surely someone had noticed the fires, and came to investigate the island? She might have had a chance to get help in bringing the remaining cultists to justice, or at least to escape herself. She spied at them from a distance, before she noticed Do'vah and Tatur waiting at the beachhead. She felt a fool, her suspicions of the Orc were very well placed after all. If she had insisted on sending him to the grave yesterday, the few survivors might have been able to end it. Do'vah couldn't act, no one would have died that night. Surely Do'vah would have been blamed, if no one perished at that point? But it was pointless fantasizing about a reality that was not to be. No, she had to figure out how to take out that horde that was landing on the island.

She knew her chances at survival were poor, but the ex-slave was not willing to give up to the Prince of Domination. So she did all she could do, wait, and hope they would fall into her traps. From her perch, she watched as they began to occupy the various structures, as she went over the various mechanisms she could trigger based on their positions. Yet she waited, for a better moment. That moment would not come in time, unfortunately. She saw that impossibly big golden warrior enter her building, with another cultist behind it. A faint jingling reached her ear, indicating that they were approaching the entrance of her hiding spot.

She hastily drew several arrows from her quiver, lighting each on fire. Rapidly, she shot several pots, ropes, and springs hidden throughout the ruins of Uthenni. The reaction was immediate, fireballs consuming most of what still stood. Screams, shouting, and hurried feet reached her ears. The jingling of the chimes indicated whoever had entered had left once more. However organized they may had been a moment prior, they were not expecting so much of the village to erupt around them. While she watched them come to the beach, she counted well over twenty of them. She mentally halved that number, figuring that her traps had done a good part of the work for her.

The survivors were mostly in the street, with so much of the town now ablaze. With her remaining arrows, she fired upon them. Four of the wounded fell immediately. This was done at the cost of her location, however. The arrows pointed right back to her, with the remaining survivors regrouping to defeat her. Still she fired on, hoping to take out a few more before she would have to move. As her arrow reserves lowered, she indecisively went over her options for how to proceed. A single blow to the head made the decision for her, knocking her from the roof to the ground below.

Life detection was one of the most useful spells for any manhunt. No matter how well you hide, your life-force itself would sell you out. The Champion knew this, and as such, also knew where Runs-with-Dunmer was immediately. Still, the Champion's sleeper agents made a note of the Argonian's affinity for traps. A direct assault would likely be expected, so it sent its forces to scour the rest of the town, hoping they would take her attention for its own approach. It entered her hiding hole, and almost immediately found the rattles to alert her to their approach. So the Champion rang them, and sent one of its men back out so that she wouldn't expect anyone to still be inside.

As chaos erupted outside, the Champion of Molag Bal took her unawares. A simple blow from the Vampire's Mace was enough to fling her from the roof, into its forces below.

Runs-with-Dunmer felt like her very life was being sucked out of her, which considering what had hit her, was a very accurate description of events. Battered from her blow and fall, she pulled herself back to her feet. Her bow did not survive the fall as well, however. Throwing the now useless weapon to the ground, she was suddenly overtaken by the cultists who were caught in her ambush. On all sides, she was surrounded. The golden monster jumped from up above, shaking the whole ground with his landing. She drew the sword from her side as the giant laughed at her. Not a quip, not some final command to accept her fate, just laughter.

She looked around her, the surviving cultists more than prepared to eliminate her. Their leader still laughed. Behind them was nothing. What little remained of Uthenni was being eaten by the flames, not a building still untouched. The champion's laughter rose in intensity, as it watched its prey take in the scene. She could see a few memorials to the victims, the graves, the kill sights, and she saw all of the victims of her enemy. Still, laughter pervaded this scene. Everything this town was, was consumed by the laughter.

She looked up at her chief challenger, and charged.

Runs-with-Dunmer was:

The Adventurer - A retired hero of previous days, this character has seen it all. Her years of experience from her youth have left her ready for sudden attacks, and she can survive any attack from the cultists at night.

Thank you all for playing and reading! I hope you had as much fun with this as I did writing this. I'll add some more details about the game workings itself soon, but feel free to talk about it in the interim.

[The SheoDovah]

Well done AKB! You did an excellent job of the MBG! I somehow overlooked the possibility of Shadow being the one to attack me and believed it was RWD due to her being a major threat to me and Taters.

[AKB]

Thank you. Just a note, now that the game is over, you do not need to hide comments.

[The-Shadow-One]

I [&@%!]' knew it! I knew it! Ahhhh!

[ZeRoc]

:

After the murders were complete, Barbas sneaked back to the island and found where his masters body was, and dug him out. Paras's corpse rose from the ground. "Well well, you provided me some fun mortal, I'll make a deal with you."
"Yes, yes, a thousand times yes." Paras said as undead life came to his corpse. Paras lives again because he is-
The Vampire: After making a deal for life with Clavicus Vile, this character can return from the dead and flee, spreading his brand of mean throughout Tamriel.

With a fanged grin, Paras and Barbas fled the village forever.

As a side note, all the professions were very interesting and added a lot to the game.

[Aarah]

Ahh, booooo! The cultists won!
Great stories and roles AKB! (im still curious about that mannequin in the field )
It was good fun and im glad that my character could resurrect, otherwise I wouldnt have been able to play after the first night!

Shame on Do'vah, sobbing his heart out when he was a killer! Bad cat!

[The SheoDovah]

Shame on you for falling for the emotional cat act.

[Dirty Spaceman]

Goddammit. I thought that since Mu was the Investigator, he'd discovered that Do'vah was innocent, and that's why he was defending him the day before. Well, I guess that'll teach me not to think I've got everything figured out in a MBG. I'd thought I was so close to co-winning my second of three games. At least I made it to the last day!

[Taters]

A little epilogue(non-canon?):

As he settled in the dark, cramped cabin he was put in, Tatur mused. He knew that the loss of Ba'Lee, and the continued incapacity of Do'vah were most displeasing to Lord Bal. He also knew that he and the cat would be the next victims, weak and mewling as they were seen to be. But Tatur had never been one to give up, or to concede. He fought for years against prejudice to ply his smith's trade in major cities. He once beat nearly to death a stronghold orc, who'd dared tell Tatur that his city-dwelling kind were weak, and could never be warriors. Even his first contact with Molag Bal had seen him single-handedly fend off half a dozen blood-crazed attackers. It was his words to Bal afterward that cemented their connection, and proved Tatur to be strong.

"That's it? You send your peons for my blood, you call me weak, and this is how it ends? I could fight off a hundred of these weaklings, and then what? Would you still call me weak? Would you still think these runts superior?"

Bal had roared with laughter at this, seeing the fire in Tatur's eyes. He'd offered Tatur power in exchange for his service; his violence. But now, everything was poised to collapse. Tatur looked around the meager space, and his eyes lit on an item. He waited, though, biding his time until Runs-With-Dunmer, curse her, had finally been slain, and the champion had returned. He waited until they had set off, and night had fallen.

The champion rested soundly in his cabin, feeling powerful for slaying the Argonian, but also disgusted that he'd had to do it himself. He was roused by a hand at his shoulder; he grabbed the person and twisted their arm behind them, throwing them into the wall.

"Agh! Sir! It's only me!" the croaky voice squeaked, indicating his right hand man.

"Hmph", the champion grumbled, "Why do you rouse me at such an hour?!"

"It's the ship, sir! It's burning!"

"WHAT?!"

The champion burst out of his room, onto the deck. Sure enough, the ship was engulfed in flame. Even the lifeboats had caught. He heared a peal of laughter, growing louder by the moment, and looked across the ship. Several of his men were holding down the orc, who was holding an oil lamp and cackling madly. As he stared at the scene, he could swear the orc caught his eye. Either way, the orc burst out, laughing louder than ever. The champion roared up at the sky, and in a single fluid motion, stomped across the deck, and smashed his mace into the orc's head. It was little consolation, as all he saw around him was flame. Was this Bal's will? Had he failed his master in some way? He had no time to consider the answer as the deck collapsed beneath him, and plunged him into the sea below.

EDIT: Also, I'm stating now that I want the next game. I know there'll be a vote, but dammit, I have a fantastic, cohesive idea filled with twists, and I WANTS IT.

[AKB]

I'm alright with the players adding on their own little twists to it, especially the three of you with ambiguous fates.

Just a note that I only approved ZeRoc's edition as being "canon" due to the ridiculousness of it.

[The SheoDovah]

What happened to Do'vah? He died. One-shadow's ghost assaulted him and tore him into tiny pieces then turned him into a sweetroll.

Epilogue for Do'vah

Do'vah knew he had displeased Lord Bal and knew that he had one destination if he remained on the ship. Certain death. During one night, the crafy Khajiit picked the lock to his cabin and jumped over board after stealing their sweetrolls. He was believed to have drowned by the servants of Bal on the boat and he thought his plan had succeeded.

He was caught a week later and was brought before Bal's champion. Bal's champion sentenced him to death but before they could cut his head off, Bal instructed them to spare the cat, he stated he was not worth killing and could be useful. He was tasked with gathering supplies for the servants in exchange for not dying.

Do'vah spent the rest of his life procuring supplies for the servants. His addiction got worse and his darker side started to show. He started to rape women that he liked the look of and would murder people if he believed they had skooma or sweetrolls. But thanks to the servant's of bal, he was never discovered.

[Musicman247]

Mu's ghost sighed as he watched his Inn burn to the ground from the inside.

[Believe]

I was so disappointed, being killed during the night... Only cowards do that!

At least I was able to fend off any suspicion until the very end...


Well played gents! Taters, Dovah, it was an honour to be a murderer alongside the two of you.

AKB, this has been the most entertaining MBG I have been a part of, thank you so much for hosting it, and especially injecting some "newness" into it! I highly enjoyed it!

[ArgonianDunmer]

I actually really like AKB's ending for my character, in all its ambiguity, there's nothing I would add or change.

Aside from thoroughly enjoying this MBG, I feel really lucky to have had the role I did. When AKB told me that I was immune to the cultists during the night I tried to build my entire character around that idea, which will explain some of my very odd behaviour (like the very early, or very late, entrances and so on) aimed at trying to get them to focus their attention on me (that night where there were signs of a struggle but no death were when they attacked me).

But damn. I had counted on Do'vah not being a worshipper because I thought that Duruza's incapacitation surely meant that whoever was doing the incapacitation had some kind of malicious intent. I also decided not to push for Tatur even though I fully suspected him as a worshipper because I didn't want to risk being hung myself if Tatur convinced Darba to switch, which, by my reckoning, would have doomed the town. I figured I could afford to let One-Shadow die because I had ascertained that Darba was innocent, meaning that either he or Do'vah would have been slain in the night and then I would have been able to defeat Tatur the next day (plus I highly doubted whether I could get him to cooperate based on the events of that day).

The most annoying part though, is that I actually really disliked the character of Do'vah, but was totally convinced he was innocent. There was a point right at the start where I wanted to have him killed, just because he annoyed me (in a King A the addict kind of way ), but I thought it better to go after Paras instead.

All I can say is, if people had listened to me like they'd listened to Duruza back in that MBG where he basically lead the straight executions of each worshipper, we would have gotten Tatur so much earlier. I'm still amazed how someone who is almost always the first to be murdered and always seems to be right in the thick of it when it comes to suspicion, was able to command that much respect in that MBG.

Well played all!

[Emzi 43]

In the ruins of four threes' house, a corpse remained. Above, a spitting image of the Argonian blinked for the first time, he looked sadly at the corpse that had created him in his final moments. He knew what he was, a mirror, he was dead. He would haunt the island forever, warning away those who would investigate.

[Dragon53535]

AKB, the ending was written masterfully as always, just a quick question though since the game is over, did you choose a character's role randomly? or did you mull it over when each person had their backstory and made the story work?

After Selezen's death, she became a sort of patron for thieves and love all over Tamriel.