Howl Werewolf Flood

Aurelia shook her head when the two had acussed the journalist. Anyone could have been thrown out from the waystone bar. However, the man that would always be in the shadows would be the beggar. Not many would even glance at the frail old man in the streets. He could easily sneak away into the shadows only to transform into a werewolf.

"No, not the journalist. He is the one who has the power to warm the entire village about the beast through the works of the papers! Anyone could have been thrown out of the waystone that night. It would be that the journalist was there to enquire the bartender about the werewolf since he had known everyone's secrets." Aurelia stated.

"All of you can blame an innocent journalist, whereas you have not noticed someone who always lurks on the street." The girl leaned forwards slightly, lowering the tone of her voice so it sounded mysterious as if she was telling a ghost story.

"Have you seen the beggar around the corner? He who rarely speaks to anyone but just watches. He watched your every movement and since he goes unnoticed he knows the right time to attack."

Well, the sun decided to wake up early today. Bright and shining, complete with...laughter? What the heck? Oh, and it was the familiar kind of laughter as well. How wonderful. Someone he knew must have died.

Anatole opened his eyes to find the bartender rolling on the floor laughing. No! Max couldn't have "died" already! This was terrible! As Anatole watched with a gaping mouth, he knew that he had to get his head back in the game. This first real death shouldn't faze him.

Oh, here they went again! As soon as the whole town was up, they went accusing! Well, this is what happens when you kill the first day! The town was now down two instead of what should have been one. His journalist did have a point for advocating for a no-vote the first day, but as Anatole saw a narrow break in the conversation, he decided to butt in.

"Whoa whoa whoa, wait one second. It could have been you?" Anatole, looking towards his writer, was surprised when he heard his colleague was being accused. His gut screamed innocent on the poor boy. He had to do something--and fast. "There's certainly a chance, but there is no way in heaven my writer would slack off enough to have time to kill people! Think about it...if he was a Werewolf, wouldn't I have been dead already? Wouldn't he just go for who was easy and available at his workplace: take advantage of some fresh meat like me? And the articles, I proofread every one of them. Nothing that he does wrong gets past my prying eyes." His face was strained as he made his case. It grew red with the shouting, and now that Max was dead, he wouldn't get criticized about his character! He could let himself run free! "It seems meaningless to place a vote on him."

Ignoring the piercing silver stare of the beggar, Anatole...or whoever this character was...kept going. "And why the beggar too? Oh Gosh...and I thought last night was tough!" Rubbing his temples with a sigh, Anatole decided to go out on a limb. "In fact, Miss Blacksmith! You, my lady, have always been swift to judge each morning based on nothing but anecdotal information. Starting off with some jutting accusation frequently...why couldn't it be you? Your occupation holds suspicion in itself, when it comes to weaponry." Whoa, whoa, whoa! He was doing stuff now! Watch out world, the head of the paper was in town! "Therefore, I cast my vote for you."

Her eyes widened as Anatole had accused her. She flung her hands up innocently. She couldn't have someone place a vote on her, it was only the second round of the game. The identity werewolf needed to be revealed as she was suspicious of why someone, especially the potions Professor chose such a low class role as a beggar.

"Me? I sell weapons, fancy cutlery and other small Nick knacks to my fellow friends and townspeople. I have never abused my status as a blacksmith and never used the weapons against anyone." She continued defending herself.

"The reason why I had put my vote on Emm- the farmer was because she seemed sketchy and she had that darkness in her eyes Everytime I glanced in her direction. Also, she has been purchasing way too many pitchforks from my shop. I had merely suspected she was up to something." She explained.

"It is almost nightfall," Solomon announced reminding the students, erm villagers to vote for the most likely were. Max might have been an early favorite, there was something apparently 'special' about this young man. Favorites here meant that they were dead, not much incentive to stand out but it made him a curious one to watch.

Posting in a few hours.

The Head Journalist's rant was a little over the top, but Ami could work with it. "And you vouch for your employee, that he's innocent?" she demanded, pointing at him. Anatole nodded eagerly, insisting, "Yes! I vouch for him! He's a good man!" He seemed sincere, and Ami would simply have to go off of her gut instinct.

Narrowing her eyes at everyone else in the circle threateningly, she pointed at Aurelia as well, backing Anatole's vote with another. "I trust my news source," she said quietly. "I vote the blacksmith." 

It seemed that the Werewolf was still alive and that it had chosen to kill someone - Max Avery. He was looking around when Ami accused him of being the werewolf. "What do you mean? I don't drink on the job? What kind of person would I be to investigate people while drunk? Sorry, I think you have the wrong person." Yet, he still found it rather suspicious that she had jumped to him first. 

Soon after that, Amadea had also accused him of being the were. "Yes, that's true that journalists can bend the news, but all of my articles have to go through my boss, Anatole. I don't see the final version until it finishes up. My boss also gets the original news before I do anything with it, so he can see if I tampered with it or not."

"I also don't trust the blacksmith. If she had control over most of the weapons in the town, then she can prevent villagers from getting weaponry that could be used against her team. Though I also do admit the beggar is also suspicious. Being able to find out information secretly and avoid suspicion would make sense. Also, he continued to reinforce his vote for someone who he had no basis on, and yet voted for her. Still, we should wait for more people to speak up before doing anything."

This was going bad. Would they vote out another innocent? She didn't know, but at least they hadn't started to blame her for Max's death. Sure he accused her since she said she saw Emma hill outside. That was true, but her green house is out at the edge of the village so she can easily go and study plants and animals. And Eri thought it was weird that she saw Emma hill out at that time of night.

"Guys do we even have proof that the blacksmith is the were or even the beggar? We can't keep accusing more people. Sooner or later there won't be many of us left if we keep voting people with out actual proof." The brunette said to everyone.

Action: abstain from vote

It seemed like they had just lost Emma when yet another death was announced, this time caused by the wolves. ”Is there no mercy in this cruel world?” December gasped, splashing some water in the boys direction and making another sign of the cross.

December’s eyes narrowed as one of the girls she had questioned, the wildlife girl, explained her reasoning in accusing Emma. ”Since when does keeping a ‘straight’ face make someone guilty?” she replied in a huff. ”Do you know who also has a straight face? Innocent people, like the one you killed off,” she nodded in Emma’s direction.

The wildlife girl’s answer had certainly been sketchy, and she really did think that she was playing some sort of part in all this. What December found to be even more suspicious, however, was that the blacksmith had accused the farmer because she was buying pitchforks. You know, the things that farmers use? She was also trying to accuse the beggar simply because he was a beggar. ”Excuse me, we must treat our fellow man with honor and compassion,” she called her out indignantly. ”Also, of course she was buying pitchforks. She was a farmer, duh.” December rolled her eyes and pointed a finger at her. ”Going off your own logic, however, you work with many more weapons than anyone else does. And have you ever repented for the sheer amount of dangerous items you sell to murderers and thieves on a daily basis? I think not,” she nodded towards the organ player in compliance. ”I agree with my liege. There is no fake news here. I think you are guilty, and should await a trial of your peers.”

[Howl]
1.) Amadea Campbell
2.) Anatole Evans
3.) Eri Windstone
4.) Max Avery
5.) Fainauriel Valtome
6.) Aurelia Bezuidenhout
7.) Emma Hill
8.) December Hale
9.) Ami Procoppio
10.) Midas Jones
11.) Lorelai Brunelle

Day would come to an end and as it did, Lear's ticking charm would cease on Max and Emma. The charm, while harmless was akin to torture for anyone who has experienced the unrelenting torment that was tickling. It had already been a few minutes, an eternity likely for Max and Emma when the sensation ceased he would be gasping for air. Yet Solomon was using these exercises to help these kids live -- they were intended to be survivors and to be a survivor you needed to be durable, capable of enduring and capable of misdirecting, of lying.

"Max and Emma, you will be ticking the next victim from the grave," Solomon announced. They needed to practice and Solomon was going to make sure that these two got something out of this experience. They would likely relish the chance to avenge himself. Hopefully they would use it well. As for their 'victim' they were going to be getting potentially twice the tickling power, and that would only rise with each death. Yes, Professor Lear was a sadist.

Midas would be the first to be accused as day broke. Ami focused on the story, perhaps the roleplay was the key. Perhaps the children were capable of fabricating elaborate characters with intentions on the spot. Amadea seemed to mirror Ami's thoughts, well either that or they were a were pair intent on pointing a claw at another would-be victim. Aurelia and Anatole would come to Midas' defense, interested more in the character than the behavior. These kids were an interesting bunch. If only Solomon understood what LARPing was, they would have a great time. The beggar... someone that has kept to the shadows, a possibility. Anatole accused the blacksmith and then her vote went to the farmer instead.

"Suspicious... how very suspicious.

At least that was how Ami saw it as she changed her vote. Convinced to change her vote, perhaps she had identified the true were. Perhaps she had now condemned an innocent villager once again to death. The tides had now changed against Aurelia. Midas would speak up in his own defense. Indeed he was an innocent man because someone else vouched for his assumed and alleged innocence.

Eri would beg for cooler heads to prevail.

Such would not happen.

December would cast her vote as well, it was near unanimous.

That would be five votes for the blacksmith, one for Midas, one for the farmer and

The vote would not even be close -- Aurelia would be forced to die. Death by Rictusempra.

"It is my unfortunate duty to render judgement on this would-be were. Aurelia Bezuidenhout, you have been sentanced to DEATH by Rictusempra for the crime of being a were. May the gods have mercy on your soul. Mister Avery and Miss Hill, will you do the honors?" If Max and Emma was not feeling up to it, Solomon would utter the incantation before the veil of darkness would be upon them, if only one cast it then the victim would have a kinder end than intended.. "Weres... you know what you must do, as the curse transforms you into a ravenous and terrible beast go forth into the night and pick your victim carefully. Yes, at least one were still lives!" 

Were(s) pick your victim and contact me.
Potion Master tell me who you wish to save.
Seer who do you wish to know more about.

Ami the asked the journalist for confirmation, then afterwards, put a vote on her. Simply because Anatole was a journalist and she believed what he said. The brunette was about to open her mouth and defend herself when another, Midas, placed a vote. Then came the priestess, she too accused the blacksmith.

Aurelia knew she was already a goner. It was 4 votes on her and she wouldn't be able to convince them to take them back with just a couple more seconds to go. Even then, she tried to defend herself.

"The priestess has accused me? We all know that werewolves burn once they step inside the holy cathedral. I myself go there every Sunday! I might have sentenced a farmer to death but who knows she might have been the devil! I never deny any villager of my sales, I- " her blabbering was cut off by the Professor's booming voice. She would be eliminated.

"My ghost will haunt all of you at night and your sweet dreams would be turned into nightmares." It would be the blacksmith's last words before she was sentence to death.

She squeezed her eyes shut and braced herself for the spell. But nothing hit her. That was when the Man announced that the two 'corpses' who had been eleminated in the previous round would be casting the Tickling Charm. The girl's features twisted into a scowl. It was going to be twice the torture. The first time she had been hit by the spell was during the rictusempra tag. It was terrible.

Aurelia hugged her knees tightly against her chest as if it would shield her from the charm's effects. She prayed that one or possibly both of their spells would backfire or miss. There was a chance, a very slim chance.