Recent posts by Precarious on Kongregate

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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / The General Thread

I’ll pre-sign for the VVDD. I don’t think there’s any question about my mafia experience. :)

 
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Topic: Kongregate / Post Your Wins.

The fabled double win—55,555 points, and 2,000 posts.

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [Mafia] Remnants of Skystone First Annual Memorial Mafia (Day 5)

The confusion surrounding the night actions has been resolved, and the game will now be continuing as normal. Happy 2000th post to me, I guess. :)


Night 4 Recap

9:09 a.m.

Once more, the sun fell below the horizon, and darkness returned to the land. The pale moon grew large in the sky, casting the world below in an eerie white glow. Etched in moonlight, the night scenes seemed overly vivid, stark, conjuring memories of the mimics so recently slain. The Nidarians shifted uncomfortably in their sleeping bags, silently pleading for the dawn.

In time, the silver silence of night gave way to the color and sound of day. But as the sun was summoned back to its throne atop the world, the Nidarians were met with a scene from a nightmare. Helltank, revealed as Admiral Stanton—hero of the cause, head of the army itself—lay bloodied and suffering, the victim of another nighttime mimic attack.


Night 4 is complete.

Helltank has been nightkilled. He was Admiral Stanton, Aeronaut Admiral, a member of the Nidarian faction.




Day 5

The Haze Level has increased. It is now Level Two, MODERATE. You currently have seven Spores available to spend.

The Day will last 96 hours; it ends on July 5 at 1:30 am EST. Good luck players.


With the acquisition of seven spores yesterday, you now collectively have a considerable amount to spend. Please remember to vote for how you would like to spend (or save) them during the day.

AVAILABLE PURCHASES

Ether (x inf) – Will reduce the Haze level by one point. Costs 1 Spore per unit. This can be bought as many times as you like.

Namingway Card (x1) – Wrong game Precarious! This will assign a Name Investigate power (one shot) to one random player of any alignment. The gifted player may choose to check whether a given player has a generic name, or a specific name. Costs 2 spores. This may be purchased once.

Alignment Investigate (x2) – Will assign an Alignment Investigate power (one shot) to one random player of any alignment. Costs 3 spores. This can be purchased twice.

Sun-Scarred Fizz (x2) – Will assign a Nightkill Protect power (one shot) to one random player of any alignment. Costs 3 spores. This can be purchased twice.

Haze Inoculation (x1) – Global effect. Will reduce the likelihood by 50% of a Nidarian dying from Critical Haze. Costs 3 Spores. This can be purchased once.

Radio (x1) – PRICE REDUCED! Allows the Nidarians to radio communicate with a Nidarian recovering from his injuries. (In essence, this allows a player who has been killed to continue discussing in thread. They do not regain night abilities or voting power, and do not affect the the ratio of Nidarians to Mimics; after all, they’re still up in Nidaria). Costs 4 Spores. This can be purchased once.

Final Fizz (x1) – PRICE REDUCED! Gerard has made a breakthrough! An extremely dense recuperative fizz, packed with fruits and an ether infusion, allows for incredibly rapid recovery from injury. This experimental fizz will allow an eliminated Nidarian to rejoin the game. Costs 8 Spores. This can be purchased once.

Haze Suppression Network (x1) – Installs an etherized network in the immediate area, removing the Haze Level mechanic from the game entirely. Costs 10 Spores. This can be purchased once.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / Your Pants Presents: Badge of the Week! (Week of 6/29: Closure)

Week two is here! This week, we’ll be playing through Closure. This didn’t seem to have a ton of activity after the first couple days, so hopefully things pick up this week.

Remember to let me know during the week if there’s a game you’d like me to pick!

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / Hidden Objects - Over

Didn’t notice that. Too busy getting ninja’d repeatedly. :(

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / Hidden Objects - Over

No rabbit ears, no heart.

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / Hidden Objects - Over

Glove

EDIT: The world is a dark and cruel place.

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / Hidden Objects - Over

Music symbol

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / Hidden Objects - Over

Might as well gamble. There is no Eiffel Tower, and no croissant.

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / Hidden Objects - Over

Lizard

EDIT: This moves so quickly. :(

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [Mafia] Remnants of Skystone First Annual Memorial Mafia (Day 5)

5:40 p.m.

Buoyed by the destruction of another mimic, the Nidarians did not relent in their search for the enemies in their ranks. The Aeromimic had been rendered ash just minutes before, but already the people of the sky had resumed their deliberations and debates, discussing the events of previous days as the afternoon shadows grew longer and gathered about them.

It did not take long. Before the stars could emerge, while the beaming sun still smiled down on their encampment, the Nidarians reached a consensus. The Aeromimic had previously made a decision that cast doubt on another of their ranks, and so they turned upon Kuzco12. Vote after vote questioned his allegiance; it seemed his demise was inevitable. So inexorable was this process that Kuzco took an unusual step: he removed his mask, revealing the glowing violet eyes of an abomination, a misshapen creature merely simulating humanity. And before anyone could act, it brought about the inevitable on its own terms, slitting its own throat before bursting into pale purple flame.


Final Vote Tally:

Kuzco12 HAMMERED (qwertyuiopazs, MyNameIsNothing, Woon1957, LouWeed, mar12345, Pulsaris, Kuzco12)
hamuka 1 (RandomTurtle)
mar12345 1 (hamuka)


Kuzco12 has been lynched! He was a Mimicrag, a Mimic. He dropped 4 Spores.



Day 4 has ended. With 7 spores now in stock, the inventory will return tomorrow morning, with new items available.

Night 4 will last for 48 hours, and end on June 30, at 1:30 p.m. EST. If you intend to use a night action, please send it to me before then!

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [Mafia] Remnants of Skystone First Annual Memorial Mafia (Day 5)

Since I wasn’t around to process the daykill, the day is being extended by 24 hours. On that note:


4:43 p.m.

The Nidarians had again come together, determined to discover the monsters among them, and by destroying the mimics in their ranks salvage the mission. The accusations came hard and fast; few were inclined to hold back their thoughts in such an intense environment. As time passed, more and more fighters fingered uzzbuzz as a probable mimic. He argued otherwise, but it seemed he would inevitably be lynched.

The votes piled up, and Nidarians gathered about uzzbuzz. He scrambled away, screaming his innocence to anyone that would listen. But at last, one Nidarian grew tired of his claims, and took matters into her own hands. She walked straight up to him, and blew a hole in his chest.

Uzzbuzz screamed again, and his scream seemed less than human. Purple haze streamed from his gruesome wound, and he slumped to the ground. His mask rolled off, revealing the warped and wizened features of a monster. And then he combusted, leaving behind nothing but Spores.


Uzzbuzz has been daykilled! He was an Aeromimic, a Mimic. He dropped 3 Spores.


The day has been extended. It will end June 29, at 4 p.m. EST.

Current Votes are:

Kuzco12 2 (qwertyuiopazs, MyNameIsNothing)
hamuka 1 (RandomTurtle)
mar12345 1 (hamuka)
10crystalmask01 1 (LouWeed)
No Lynch 1 (Kuzco12)

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / BOLD - Round 2: Descriptions!

Trust



My child, no man can navigate the desert unaided.

The words of our chieftain, dead these fifteen years, still form the foundation of our culture. To attempt to cross the white sands is death. The sands sing of the hot wind, longing for lost rain; they slither in sinuous striations, calling sonorously to the clouds. But no water comes. To cross the white-grained sea is to be swallowed up in contradiction, the salt baked from your body, the water drawn out of you into the uncaring dunes. No man nor animal nor spirit-beast may pass that test. Even the great thunder serpent, lord of the summer sky, flees that flat, undulating expanse.

The White Sea is death, and it is death to try to cross it.


When I was a child, I would play with Zelinka in the cool shade of the date trees, on the banks of the Great River, Vizallim. Vizallim brings life to our people, cleansing us and quenching our thirst. Vizallim gives life to our livestock, makes Sister Earth fertile and productive. From the shores of Vizallim, all manner of life emerges: the blue grasses of T’salthe, which our Dreamers smoke to read the stars; Dvaleh potatoes, spread to our fields; Mejira weed, slick and clammy, clinging to our feet. Along the shores live many animals, frogs and snakes and birds and burrowing creatures. Zelinka was once stung by a deadly snake, but the milk of the Zireen cactus called her back from Death’s Door. And so there was no better place to play than in the watchful gaze of Vizallim the Guardian. We would throw the Ad’jubii fruit like a ball in a hundred games, swim to the aits in the center of the river. Zelinka was my best friend; she was beautiful and funny, and always smiling.

Then, on that day fifteen years ago, the Plague returned. Some of our elders say it comes from the White Sea, death encroaching when there is no life, carried on the mournful wind. Others say that is comes from Vizallim, who must take if it is to give. Still others say it is comes with ash of the far-off fire mountain, smoking and rumbling on the horizon. In truth, no one knows why the Plague comes, or from whence. But it struck us hard that year, and Zelinka was among those it took from us.

And in a different way, it also took our chieftain.


“Mauviro.”

Zelinka’s voice was soft, weak. When she spoke, she did so with a faint cough, as though she was about to come apart. Although my mother tried to hold me back, I went to her and held her hand.

“Mauviro,” she said again.

Words caught in my throat; I knew not what to say. Death is understood among our people; it is the gate to the Celeziund, which mortal eyes may not behold. Some say the Celeziund is a place of great beauty. Others say that it is a quiet void, where we may reflect on our lives. Even the Astronomers and the Dreamers cannot agree on its properties, although they have identified it as existing beyond the Fox Star, burning bright in the long nights. But I cared not for the Celeziund, only for Zelinka. I squeezed her hand again.

“Zelinka, please…”

She silenced me with her eyes. “Mauviro,” she said. “I will miss you, and I will see you again.”

“Please don’t go!” Tears burned my eyes, blurred my vision. “Please don’t go!”

All this time, the Chieftain watched us. Zelinka was his youngest daughter, the child of his old age. He approached me. “Mauviro,” he said.

“Chief Zirvandi,” I acknoweldged.

“My child,” he said. “No man can navigate the desert unaided. No map or chart will lead you in the right path; the White Sea will lead you astray, take you as its own. The spirits fear to ghostwalk there; even the lvinni and mravi will lose their way. No dromedary will see you safely across, and the astronomers cannot divine its boundaries. But there is a way across.”

I stared at the Chieftain in disbelief. The Sacred Stones had presented us with that absolute truth from time immemorial—no one and nothing could cross the White Sea and live. It was impossible.

“My chief,” I began.

He cut me off with a glance.

“Beyond the White Sea, so the Sacred Stones tell us, lies Vizallim’s twin, Mavruha. Mavruha feeds an oasis, which holds a lost city. And in that city grows a strange white flower. This flower, the Stones tell us, can banish the Plague.”

“But no man can cross the White Sea,” I said.

“This is not true,” he replied. “While no man can cross that expanse with his own arts, it may yet be navigated. But one must place his trust in life, not in death. Vizallim and Mavruha have raised up signs of life all across Sister Earth, even where none should exist. In the desert, there are plants which defy all logic, and persist amidst the White Sea’s desperate thirst. They will provide a path across the expanse, through that sandy sea, and lead ultimately to the oasis. I will go there, and bring back the white flower. And this will heal our people.”

The Dreamers and the Astronomers begged him not to go. So did the Elders. So did my mother and father. But Chief Zirvandi would not be dissuaded. His thoughts were only with Zelinka. His red robe billowing behind him like the phoenix, he set off on a dromedary into the White Sea. That flash of pink-red, as vivid as the flamingos that sometimes flew by, faded into the eternal white. Chief Zirvandi never returned.

And three days later, the Plague carried off Zelinka.


When it became obvious that Zirvandi would not return, the Elders selected my father to replace him as chieftain. Under his tutelage, I learned our people’s arts: medicine and poetry, astronomy and astrology. I learned to work the land and to fish Vizallim; I learned to master the bow and the javelin and the blade. On my twenty-first birthday, I was even initiated into the ghostwalk, where I was to take counsel with the mravi. Yet every day I would visit Zelinka’s grave, and walk under the date trees on the banks of the river. Her final words to me, when it became apparent that Zirvandi was gone, and that she too would pass to the Celeziund.

“Mauviro,” she said. Her chest heaved, and her eyes were filled with pain; I knew she was not long for our world.

“Zelinka.” I went to her.

“Mauviro, promise me,” she whispered.

“Anything.”

“Promise me that the people will find happiness again. That these Plagues will not…”

And then she breathed her last.

With that memory weighing on me, I stared once more at her grave. It was fashioned from wood and stone, painted with dyes of blue and red. I placed a flower at its base, that we discovered on the ait in the middle of the Vizallim. We had been told not to go there, that the waters were too rapid, but we had done so anyway, and found our own place. My mother scolded me when we returned, but only lightly. She understood.


On the 11th day of the Summer, in a year when the fire mountain came back to life, and the Fox Star quivered in its vault above, the Plague returned. It struck with a savagery unknown to our historians; our scrolls and stones had never recorded such widespread sickness and suffering. Even my mother and father fell ill, as did most of the people. Our very culture teetered on the brink of death.

Heedless of the risks, I ghostwalked with the sinister vvzanvin, and the mischievous lvinni, and the noble mravi. But they could offer no answers. The few Dreamers who hadn’t fallen ill read only messages of despair in the stars, calling on the conjunction of the dark stars, Venom and Wormwood and Uvalim.

I let my mind drift back to that last conversation with Zirvandi, to Zelinka’s last words. My father, laboring in his bed, reached out to me. I think he knew what I was planning, knew what I was determined to do as soon as the Plague had come. “Maurivo,” he pleaded, “don’t do this.”

My child, no man can navigate the desert unaided.

But there is a way across.

I went to my camel, and started resolutely into the White Sea.

As I rode into those endless white waves, the sun burned and blistered overhead. It was impossibly hot; although I was sweating, my clothing remained dry. The White Sea stole that moisture before it could even dampen my robe. The eternal thirst, I thought. My camel labored under me, as I drank greedily from my waterskin, as we stumbled further into the white unknown.

Hours passed. In every direction, there was only white sand, impossibly bright, stinging my eyes. The sands swirled beneath me, shifting into strange signs and ideograms, inscribing my fate into the dunes. Occasionally, I would pass the bleached remains of some lost soul—a ribcage here, a skull there, even the great claw of a thunder serpent. The ghastly markers provided no relief, mere waystations in a land that had no way.

My blood boiled. I would die out here; no other possibility remained. I thought often on Zelinka, and my parents, wasting away back along the Vizallim. How they introduced me to Zelinka, how they and Zirvandi would watch us play our games under the date trees. And then I saw a flash of scarlet, a faded red cloak billowing in the wind. It was tangled up amidst a skeleton, bleached white by sand and sun and time.

I stopped. “Zirvandi,” I lamented. I took the scrap, wound it around my arm, and sat down to die.


I was on the great grey plain. The ghostwalk. But I had not imbibed the potions nor breathed the smoke that accessed the plain. How I came to this place, I could not imagine.

And then I was back in the village, fifteen years ago. I watched Zirvandi ride to his death, plunging heedlessly into the White Sea.

I opened my eyes. In the distance, I saw a low dark line, breaking up the white sameness. I climbed upon my staggering camel, rode toward the line. The line turned out to be a series of spiky plants, surmounted by strange brown fruits. I stared in disbelief; surely this was some mirage, born of delirium. Surely, these were not the children of Vizallim, but mere phantoms.

I thought back to Zelinka’s final words. An unspoken request. Even then, at Death’s Door, she thought to the future. I turned back and stared, although the white desert seemed endless. I imagined her grave, dyed blue and red, with a single flower lying as its base.

I rode into the distance.

Night came suddenly, etching the white desert in pale moonlight, turning it into a place of spirits. It suddenly resembled the ghostwalk, the grey plains made white. I decided not to stop, instead riding alongside those strange plants under the huge, bloated moon. Their shadows stretched into strange, contorted angles that recalled the wicked claws of the vanther beast that stalked our dreams, and I grew fearful. But I did not stop. I rode along that white-limned path, surrounded by ghosts and dreams and memories. I trusted in the row of impossible plants. I trusted in Zirvandi. I trusted in Zelinka.

I trusted in myself.

As day broke, so did the beliefs of our Elders. The White Sea was neither impassible nor impossible, for gleaming in the distance lay a broad river. It was Mavruha, I knew, Vizallim’s twin. I urged my camel toward the river, toward my people’s salvation. I saw stone buildings rising in the distance.

And I recognized the scene. Not Mavruha, but the Vizallim. Failure burned bitter on my tongue. I had braved the White Sea itself, returned from the land of no return, and with nothing to show for it. I raised my arms toward the sky, and cried.

My camel turned its head to look at me. Disgusted, I looked away, to my belongings bundled on its side. There, next to waterskins, was a strange sack, woven from a silken thread. Confused, I took up the sack. In it were white flowers beyond counting, flowers with strange white petals that whispered on the wind.


My child, no man can navigate the desert unaided. The White Sea cannot be crossed in such a way, as it stretches to the end of the world. That is not how we cross deserts, my child.

We cross with faith. We trust that the world will lead us home, that those who have come before us will provide a path.

We cross them with one another.

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / BOLD - Round 2: Descriptions!

Still working on my round one submission, but I thought I’d suggest

Bluji’s Original Literature Depot

Bluji’s Overdue Library Directory

Boldly Offering Literary Development

for possible BOLD meanings.

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [Mafia] Remnants of Skystone First Annual Memorial Mafia (Day 5)

Additionally, in the interest of improved activity, all players are required to vote today at some point. You may of course vote No Lynch if you like, but not posting a vote will allow for a replacement player if I can find more.

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [Mafia] Remnants of Skystone First Annual Memorial Mafia (Day 5)

RandomTurtle has replaced mount2010, effective immediately.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / The Anti Spam Thread

I’m just going to drop by to say that if you see advertising spam, please flag it! Forum moderators will be able to take care of the problem once they’re aware of it.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / Re-playing Extents of Surely Terrible Activities that are Really Tiring (A Kongregate Tournament) [REDEMPTION ROUND! ends July 3 22:00 EST] *GAME CHANGED TO PAUSE AHEAD*

 
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Topic: Kongregate / Re-playing Extents of Surely Terrible Activities that are Really Tiring (A Kongregate Tournament) [REDEMPTION ROUND! ends July 3 22:00 EST] *GAME CHANGED TO PAUSE AHEAD*

Lou and I reached 2M at literally the same time, so we’ll see what happens after that.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / Upcoming Badges!

Re: Gemcraft, is the final badge more or less equivalent to reaching the end of the story, or does it come somewhat before that? The other badges seem pretty appropriate length-wise from my experience so far.

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [Mafia] Remnants of Skystone First Annual Memorial Mafia (Day 5)

Sorry for the delay, guys. Real life got in the way yesterday.


8:46 a.m.

Subdued, the Nidarians went to their beds. It was a dark night; the silver-limned moon lay hidden behind a bank of clouds, and the shadows grew heavy about them, pressing down on the camp with tenebrous weight. In that total blackness, every sound was magnified, as people and the things that pretended to be people went to their grim night-shrouded work.

After what seemed years, the blackness at last fell away, as the sun baked the early morning sky into corruscated steel streaked deep red, like blood. And the sanguine sky seemed only to mirror the scene below, as the Nidarians rose to find one of their own lying prone in the center of camp. Kadleon, a Skylark, lay unmasked and unmoving, slashed, gashed, and gored.


Night 3 is complete.

Kadleon has been nightkilled. He was a Functional Skylark, a member of the Nidarian faction.



Day 4

The Haze Level has increased. It is now Level One, LIGHT. You currently have zero Spores available to spend.

The Day will last 96 hours; it ends on June 28 at 4:00 pm EST. Good luck players.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / Your Pants Presents: Badge of the Week! (Week of 6/29: Closure)

ARCHIVE:

6/22/15: Boozies and Floozies for Everyone! Badge (hard), Epic Battle Fantasy 3.

6/29/15: End of the Line Badge (hard), Closure.

 
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Topic: Kongregate / Your Pants Presents: Badge of the Week! (Week of 6/29: Closure)

Hello! The chatroom Your Pants is starting a new event. Each week, we will be voting on and selecting a game that chatters are encouraged to play and talk about during the week. Whether or not you typically chat in YP, feel free to stop by and discuss the game if you like! Hopefully, members of the room will have useful tips and strategies for anyone interested in participating.

Unlike the official Kongregate Badges of the Day, these will typically be a little longer, as anyone interested will have the full week to work on them.

I’m hopeful that other Room Owners will consider doing something similar to this; if you’re interested, feel free to use the idea.


This week’s badge is End of the Line from Closure.

It is a hard badge, with only 7,991 owners at the beginning of the week. Hopefully that number is a bit higher by next Monday. :) As you might expect, that low number suggests that it’s a challenge to finish, so I’m hopeful that many of you will stop by YP and try to figure out the puzzles together.

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [Mafia] Remnants of Skystone First Annual Memorial Mafia (Day 5)

9:07 pm

The atmosphere in camp was taut. The air was as much charged with suspicion and fear as it was with the Haze, a world at once violet and violent. The day’s discussions played out against a panoply of purple poison, all the more poignant in light of the Nidarians’ increasingly venomous rhetoric.

This was no easy discussion. As they day wore on, suspects came and went, and many even argued for a reprieve for the accused. But in the end, an aeronaut was dragged forward, and set upon by his fellows. TheAeronaut collapsed to the ground, his steam-based equipment falling to pieces in the barrage. Under that gear lay a human, battered and broken.


Final Vote Tally:

TheAeronaut 3 (qwertyuiopazs, uzzbuzz, LouWeed)
No Lynch 3 (mar12345, Pulsaris, TheAeronaut)
Pulsaris 2 (Helltank, [unknown source])
MyNameIsNothing 1 (back900)

[A tie was broken based on TheAeronaut receiving his votes prior to the votes for No Lynch.]

With 3 votes, TheAeronaut has been lynched! He was an Administrative Aeronaut, a member of the Nidarian faction.



Players have voted to purchase two units of Ether. Current Spores are now zero. The Haze Level has been reduced. It is now Level Zero, NONE.

Night 3 will last for 48 hours, and end on June 23, at 5:00 p.m EST. If you intend to use a night action, please send it to me before then!

 
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Topic: Forum Games: Forum Games / [Mafia] Remnants of Skystone First Annual Memorial Mafia (Day 5)

Day 3 has ended. Assuming I have the votes tallied correctly, TheAeronaut is lynched, although I will want to go back and double check since things got a little confused in places. Also, obviously, you collectively purchased two units of Ether.

Day end summary coming when I get the chance, which will probably be in a couple hours.