User:Ponytailguy/Deane's Fell
Inspired by, and dedicated to, the Eden Falls Project.
The Legend of Deane's Fell
A cat, perched on a post in the pier, stared out to sea and fixed her shimmering green eyes at the speck of light on the horizon. Night had long since fallen over the island city of Deane's Fell, but all was not as it should be. The villagers, content and smug in their beds, lent false warmth and comfort by the thick night air and blissfully dangerous fog surrounding their town, did not lend a second thought to the profound evil about to envelop and engulf their very lives.
As the speck of light grew nearer and nearer, it began to sway in the breeze. A lantern. The cat's tail formed a question mark as the unholy, wicked fog thickened around her. After a celebration of the summer's excess and bounty, she was the last watchman, and she was never very good at raising the alarm.
The lantern, as it happens, was attached to a boat; the Foreboding Plot Devicefish. Her crew was wide awake, and her sails, dyed rich black to match the night sky, fluttered quietly as she smoothly pulled into harbour. The jolly roger flew proudly at the top of all three of her masts, but no cannons were fired. She sailed into port, smoothly passed the jetty with the feline guard, and finally hit the sandy shallows with a quiet *thunk*.
It stayed there until next morning, by which time a fair number of locals, somewhat hung over but all curious, had gathered on the beach surrounding her. The gossip of this ship with black sails and a pirate's flag spread quickly, and before too long, a large crowd had assembled, some chatting and speculating gaily while others simply stood and observed the situation, weighing their options.
However, after a day of hustle and bustle on the docks, the sun went down again, people grew tired and weary, and finding no excitement from the ship except for its existance, returned to their beds for another night's rest.
The fog continued to thicken.
On the third day, it became apparent something was wrong. The sinister fog had only gotten worse, and scheduled ship arrivals had ceased altogether. Well, they arrived, I suppose; chunks of them were starting to pile up at Lookout Point. Boats sent out to investigate found their compasses inoperational, and after hours of fruitless searching through thick, soupish fog, mysteriously sailed right back into port, dizzy but no more knowing of what caused the situation.
Finally, it was decided that this ship, which so far had displayed no evidence of any crew, treasure, purpose or much else, had to be investigated. A crew of five stout men was dispatched to row out to it and see what they could find. They searched the decks and cabins, finding nothing until they reached the lowest level of the ship, the brig. There they found five words: Operor Non Lego Illa Lacuna.
One of the younger men spoke the verse out loud. Suddenly, a pang of sound permeated the island; some heard the roar of a tiger, others the howl of a banshee, and some heard something which has only been described as "the devil's laughter". All action on the island ceased completely and entirely as citizens crumbled to their knees and covered their ears, willing the noise from within to stop.
The cat, however, seemed to be immune to these effects. From her perch on the pier post, she witnessed a most odd spectacle: like the horsemen of the apocalypse, a number of wispy, demented, ghost-like creations emerged from the vessel and flew towards the island, laughing horrifically and slapping each other on the back. They flew through the water, they flew through the trees, they flew through the houses, and they flew through the people, still convulsing in pain from the inexplicable noises.
Each spirit seemed to be trying to find one specific person. When they found them, they joined with their body, merging mind and soul with whoever was unfortunate enough to be their target. No one was sacred; men, women, children, all seemed to be at risk for these demonic possessions.
It ended much as it began: suddenly. After about 30 seconds, the spirits had all merged, and the noises began to fade. Within a minute, the townsfolk were rising to their feet and taking stock of what had just transpired. But those fortunate enough to be touched by a spirit already knew, and what's more, they were going to have a lot of fun in the coming days.
The ship was still in port, but life went on, as best it could, in the town. Attendance at that night's church service was in record numbers, but the priest in the pulpit urged the adherents to remain calm and get a good night's rest. By and large, they did.
That night, however, one resident of Deane's Fell was not snug in their bed. They were walking down the pier, towards the cat, sole witness to what had transpired. I'll spare you the gory details; suffice it to say, there was a lot of hissing, a stiletto, and a parchment the next morning at the fort on the governor's desk, with "Let's play a game." written in the crimson blood of a certain feline.
So ends the legend and begins the present.
The Game Itself
The Basics
The island town of Deane's Fell has been posessed by demons, turning ordinary townspeople into vicious, seething ghouls who kill by the light of the moon. Of course, there is safety in numbers, and the townsfolk may band together to form lynch mobs to rid themselves of these ghouls, but they'd best be careful they kill the right people, for every mistake is paid in blood!
The townspeople will be assisted in this goal by the night watchman, the landlord, and the penitent. There may or may not be additional positions of power avaliable; if there are, the townspeople shall have to uncover them themselves.
Every day in-game will run for six real-life days, divided into the following proportions:
- Morning (1 day), for mourning the dead and strategizing.
- Afternoon (3 days), which is mostly socializing and competing in challenges to earn nightly protection, clues, and other useful toys. Additionally, afternoon and evening are when vicious lynch mobs are formed.
- Evening (1 day), when the ghouls determine who to murder, and the lynch mobs are finalized.
- Night (1 day), which is when all the murders happen. Lynchings and murders and mayhem, oh my!
This cycle continues until the game ends. The game will end when either:
- All the ghouls have been eliminated, by whatever means are appropriate and necessary.
- The ghouls constitute a majority of the remaining townsfolk.
- Everyone dies.
Glossary of Terms
Townsperson/Townsfolk
- Townspeople and townsfolk are the players. Every player in the game is a townsperson or townsfolk by default.
Ghoul
- A ghoul is a townsfolk who has become possessed by a demon and has moonlight urges to murder. The exact number of ghouls will not be revealed by the hosts. The ghouls' hearts have turned black, and as such, upon their lynching, murder, or other death, their true nature will be revealed.
Murder
- Murdering is how the ghouls reach their goal: every evening, they will gather to determine who to snuff out tonight. You can imagine what happens next, I'm sure.
- The Ghouls will be restricted in who they can murder by the housing arrangements for that night; the ghouls will be permitted to select victims by the tonne from the wilderness, their access to the town will be limited, and the fort is altogether off-limits. However, it is entirely possible that the ghouls may inadvertently murder one of their own if they're not careful! (Ghouls will be provided with additional, "ghoulish" forum accounts for their ghoulish duties.)
Lynch Mobs/Lynching
- Lynching is how the townsfolk can (hopefully) extract their revenge from the ghouls. Every afternoon and evening, the townsfolk may gather and, if sufficient numbers are present, function as a unit to lynch any other townsperson. Hopefully their victim's heart will be black. Anyone may be lynched regardless of housing or status within the game, so be on your toes.
The Penitent
- The Penitent was able to use their strong character and conviction to resist a complete ghoulish possession: they are treated as ghouls for all intents and purposes, except they are secretly working for the townsfolk against the ghouls from within. Killing the penitent is thus something very valuable for the ghouls, but potentially horrific for the townsfolk.
The Landlord
- The Landlord controls all the housing on Deane's Fell, and assigns any open housing every afternoon. If the Landlord is killed, they will be replaced with another player chosen by the host.
Housing
- There are three types of housing on Deane's Fell:
- The Fort, which is absolutely and entirely secure. Anyone fortunate enough to acquire a room here can sleep sound and safe from ghoul attack on this night.
- The Town, which has "safety in numbers", but is still risky. Residents of the town are further divided into districts. For more information on districts, see information on the night watchman below.
- The Streets, which offers no protection whatsoever. If you're on the streets when night falls, you gamble with your life.
- Housing is assigned through challenges, but also by the Landlord.
Night Watchman
- The Night Watchman may set his route to protect a given number of Town avenues every night, rendering everyone sleeping in those districts immune to murder. The Watchman himself must sleep somewhere, and should he fall within town, he may patrol his own district that night. If the watchman is murdered or lynched, he will not be replaced. (Note that the male pronoun does not necessarily mean the watchman will be male.)
