MadCast: LTTelamon

MadCast Werewolf Vol. 9

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Lister, you have a majority vote at your disposal.

 

Khaos

Cindy

Disma

Knight

 

Interestingly, at least one of these four is a wolf.

 

Good luck, and let us know if you would like us to weigh in on this decision.

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Lister, I'm afraid I cannot trust the proxy vote as now all but me have joined that.  While I would definitely agree in any situation that it would have worked if there were some sort of deadlock, I can't agree to it now.  I will agree to hear out any thoughts you have on the matter, but I'll be submitting my vote now.

 

Vote CindyLouwho

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I'll happily be the dissenting voice on this one as you should well know that you have all three wolves voting with you as well.

 

Final wolf picks are:

 

Khaos (Well played, sir)

Cindylouwho (Well played, ma'am)

Knight (Well played, sir)

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So I just realized this is pretty much our last shot at getting a wolf. I'm not 100% sure that Sleiph is a wolf but I'm about 99.9% sure (and have been for most the game) that Khaos is one. Seeings as how I have the backing (or so we will see) now, I'm gonna go big or go home.

 

UNVOTE Sleiphner

 

VOTE Khaos

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UNVOTE Sleiphner

 

VOTE Khaos

 

Lister, if my constant defense of Sanjo didn't convince you before, I won't be able to convince you now.

 

Good game wolves.  I'm so bummed we lost the psychic so early.  And talk about a rogue vigilante!

 

My guess for the wolves at this point:

 

Cindy

Stan

Sleiphner

 

Sleiph, I'm going to be so mad if you are a wolf!  So close!

 

Good game all.

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John Dirk sat at the bar of the local watering hole, despondent. He eyed the villagers around him. Three wolves and three men stared back, eyes alternatively hungry or pitiless.

Dirk's eyes lingered on the Doctor. The village's last hope, failed. He had been so sure. He had forced the wolves among them to cede their vote to the only one he was sure was human. They could have no influence over this most critical of decisions. But to no avail. He watched the clock for a moment, then bowed his head.

Facts and logic had led him astray time and again. He was a fool and deserved his fate.

He would die tonight, hung by his fellow men, or eaten by the wolves because the doctor had told the wolves he was vulnerable. Dirk supposed it didn't matter.

He sighed and braced for the end.

"One last drink Lister, for old times?"

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Knight nodded to Lister again. "The decision is yours Doctor. I will follow you unto the breach."

 

UNVOTE Sleiphner

 

VOTE Khaos

 

((Hopefully not too late!!))

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Awards

John Dirk patted his pockets as he was walked out to the town square, gulping at the sight of the noose.  He pulled out a notepad filled with useless case notes and dropped it on the ground.  He supposed it never had never mattered.  He had sent Scooba to the gallows, his only crime.  A man who he never could have known possessed some psychic powers.  At least he had bought Sanjo a few extra days of life.  He hoped that the odd man had enjoyed them, as much as could be enjoyed in this hellish time.

 

He didn't resist, and even smiled for a moment at the end.

 

This probably hurts less than being eaten.

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As John Dirk walked to the hanging tree, his black mood matched that of the villagers. The air of despair was heavy in town, not least around the private investigator. He put up no resistance as the rope was slung around his neck, thinking that this probably hurt less than being eaten. The other villagers watched him with the faint sense of hope, thinking that perhaps they had at last caught one of the vile beasts that had killed so many. Alas, John Dirk's face lit up in a brief death's head grin, and then went blank forever. As the villagers anxiously awaited, no sudden change occurred, no wolflike visage was revealed. The wolves had used their guile and cunning as well as their ferocity to triumph. John Dirk's body hung as a trophy to their victory. The other villagers began to back away, knowing full well that the numbers were no longer in their favor, but it was too late. In a flash, the wolves each took one victim, and the town was no more. The wolves had won this day.

 

Watching from a distance, the grizzled man inscribed a final few sentences into the gilded book, and then thoughtfully signed it in his own blood. Another Chronicle had been recorded, another battle done. The wolves had triumphed this time, but the village would rise again... and perhaps next time, it would place its trust a bit more wisely. Shaking his head, he put the book in his saddlebags, hopped upon his aged horse, and rode away into the night.

 

KILLED: Khaos

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