VAU: A Christmas Tale IC

[Disciple of Nagash]

"Well you fools have wasted another day I see," Lady Rompington spoke out, "barely speaking and some of you have not even bothered to vote. I warned you that if you did not try enough you would regret it and so you shall."

She stood up and glared at those below before speaking again,

"Bercilak and Arturo have voted. Therefore they will not die. But the rest of you, those who did not vote. One of you will die by my choice."

[mod]
Those who have not voted have been assigned the following numbers:

1. Sir Geoffrey Genet
2. Arden
3. Sophie Zimmermann
4. Emil Liskorov
5. Keng

Unfortunately the dice roller in CN is no longer active, hence I have rolled a dice at home - you will just have to trust me!

Result: 4

[/mod]

"You."

Emil looked up to see the condemning finger of Rompington pointing at him. The cold glare in here eyes and the pointed crossbows made him realise that begging was useless.

His face contorted as the vampire made himself known, vampires sliding out from their sheaths.

"Useless cattle," he snarled, "you think my death will save you. It won't. I was human when this game started, so if you think I am the only threat you are very much mistaken."

Suddenly he lunged forward towards Keng, only to be turned into a walking pincushion as the guards above responded with expert shots. His screech echoed over the hall before he exploded into dust.

"That," Lady Rompington's voice rang out, "is how you find a vampire."

[mod]
The day has ended. Those with powers please PM me, the night will end tomorrow evening.[/mod]

 

[untitled_musketeer]

Bercilak was angry with himself.

"Emil I should have known. He was too...perfect. I had warned others about this and why didn't I see it myself?"

He cursed in his own tongue, the first time he had spoken it since he had entered the Christmas party.

"Plus lisse que la merde des serpents!"

He refrained from saying any more than he already had and addressed the others.

"We need to now pull together and hope we survive the night. This may just be the last of the foul creatures, though if it is not, we must find the remaining ones tomorrow, assuming we survive."

With that he gathered himself and left for his chamber.

 

[The Archivist]

Arden picks his way over to the doors.

"With that sort of display, I'm definitely voting tomorrow, for better or worse..."

 

[Menkeroth]

Keng stared at the show with seeming coldness, though inside he was burning with rage, it cost him some time to calm down. Not to say he was ready to show them all what he was made of, but! He made his way to chamber, swift and silent. Future is all that matters! Cathayan said in the middle of the room, crossed his hands on the shoulders, closed his eyes, breathed deeply and began the necessary ritual. Practically invisible blue light lighted the chamber. Visions were flashing across his mind, one after another, in a whirlwind of energy. Images, pictures, unclear and clouded. He tried to see the pattern. Something dark, here but not here, shadows behind themselves... He must have guessed! The ritual took his last and Keng fell into a sleepless dream.

 

[con-fusion]

Bombasto stares at the dust, clearly stunned sober by this turn of events.

"Liskorov... and he wasn't a vampire when he came here. Any one of us could be turned... or could have been turned already."

He looks thoughtful.

"But, who did the turning, and when?"

Seemingly buoyed by this new mystery, Bombasto sets off towards his room with a heaping plate of food to wait out the long night and contemplate the ever increasing probability of a horrible death.

 

[Disciple of Nagash]

The morning came, but light shone not through the windows, nor would the candles light. A guard brought in a single lantern that displayed the scene.

Every window, every flammable object was caked in green-glowing black blood. In front of the fireplace Keng had been sat in a chair, some alchemical device formed of melded glass and silverware from the table plugged into one of his arteries.

Inscribed on the stone wall above the fireplace, in the same caked blood, was a message:

"I could not purify this man's blood from the foul taint. Either he has been fed upon by the vampires of the east, or chaos has had more than one follower amongst these halls."
"Yours"
"Rompington's Protégé."

[mod]
The day has now started, and another human has died.....

Slowly your numbers dwindle, and it will not be long before the vampire or vampires succeed.

Good luck, and remember to vote!![/mod]

 

[untitled_musketeer]

Bercilak appeared to be the first awake. He made his way to the main hal and looked, somewhat puzzled upon Keng's body.

Speaking aloud, but quietly to himself, he studied the scene.

"It appears I was right in my suspicions surrounding the Cathayan. Whatever he was, he is no more of a worry. I just wish Rompington and her little 'protégé' were a more active in the Vampire hunting. Their skill to route out these foul creatures has far surpassed ours. It would have spared a lot of unnecessary bloodshed."

He perused the breakfast selection and settled on some soft cheese, dry cured boar and oatbread. Filling his tankard with mead, he sat down and pondered.

 

[The Archivist]

Arden enters, her eyes carefully avoiding the windows. She's shaking a little, but seems to be keeping herself calm. She slams her eyes shut, however, when she sees Keng's body.
The air shimmers.
"Is anyone going to clean this up?" he asks, in a querulous voice.

 

[con-fusion]

Bombasto walks in, appearing sober and much more in control of himself than the day before. He surveys the scene, and frowns.

"Vampires and foul servants of the ruinous powers. The Lady's generosity with her larder notwithstanding, this house is surely cursed."

Bombasto shakes his head and walks to the table. He selects hard cheese and a whole capon from the table, and starts to eat.

"Still, there is a bright side to this latest event. Keng won't be trying to kill us tonight and we have another chance to end this game as much in our favor as possible given how much blood has been shed by all our hands."

Bombasto's expression turns thoughtful.

"At this point, we know that one of us is a skilled hunter of the undead, and we can confirm by this attempted turning that one of us is a vampire. Beyond that we have only guesswork."

He takes a bite of cheese, and washes it down with ale.

"Attempting to turn the Cathayan makes some sense. He was an object of substantial suspicion, and would have served as both distraction and shield. Who tried the hardest yesterday to direct our gaze at him?"

 

[The Archivist]

Arden turns his head away from Keng's corpse and takes a few deep breaths to steady himself.
The air shimmers.
She opens her eyes and, pale, looks at Bombasto.
"Um... who? Yesterday everyone was milling about in confusion, weren't they?"

 

[con-fusion]

Bombasto looks away in embarassment.

"Honestly, I'm not sure. I remember trying to drink myself senseless, and yelling something about Sophie. Then there was a strange blue light and Keng's voice in my head. Everything was cloudy after that."

Bombasto looks around the room.

"I'm fairly sure I voted for Sophie because of her inexplicable absence. Was that ever satisfactorily explained?"

 

[Lord_Mortis]

Sophie made her entrance, staring wide-eyed in disgust at the new layout of the much too familiar room. She saw the figure rested in the chair then the message scrawled above him and scowled.

"What kind of 'protégé' writes a message in blood? I'm not sure what's more sickening, the blood or the fact that someone attempted to write with it!"

The now sober Bombasto entered and spoke about her absence again and about how he voted for her.

"I don't know why I was apparently absent for so long, it all seemed like minutes to me down there. But if I, Sigmar forbid, were vampiric or some kind of filthy Chaos cultist do you not think I would stay amongst everyone and secure what would seem to be loyalty?"

"That said I feel it's safe to say that the kindest or most unassuming of us here would be the beast, as they'd try to lay low and attempt to not to bring attention to themself. Miss Arden and Sir Bercilak I feel are the kindest present. Take it as either a threat or a compliment but I know for a fact that should I get this choice wrong I shall be forever damned with either guilt or as the victim of another... hideous death."

She took a deep breath then turned to the only other female present.

"Miss, I'm afraid you have my vote."

Vote: Arden, Son of Mann, Daughter of Elvii, Victim of Frost / The Archivist

 

[The Archivist]

Arden pales slightly more at Sophie's original proclamation about the blood, but doesn't change again.

Arden looks at Sophie with her eyebrows raised, speaking in a strangled voice.

"So you're condemning me for being kind? Asuryan forbid that in a dark hour of vampires and cultists and witch hunts someone should show some decency."
"And are you going to answer what you were doing, hidden away in your room for several days? No matter how long it seemed there must be a reason..."

 

[Lord_Mortis]

"I wasn't in my room," Sophie stated plainly, "I was meditating in the silence of the cellar, praying to Sigmar that I should see through this with my heart still beating."

"And if not for niceties than what else do we have to go off with so little people remaining? Like every other emotion or feeling, kindness can be used as a ploy. Of course, you could all turn on me and end it here? I'm thankfully not vampiric but killing an innocent here will surely end us all anyway, one slip up and we all fall at the hands of either a dead creature or Lady Rompington and her guards."

She shrugged, ever so slightly callously before seeking out a chair to sit in, one untouched by the hideous blood around them.

"My praying has prepared me for my almost certain demise in either case. Death by the Lady's hand would be much more pleasant than at that of an abomination."

 

[The Archivist]

Arden calms a little as she takes a few breaths.

"But if every emotion could be a ploy, how do we determine which is real and which is fake?..."

She sighs and looks at the others in the room, keeping her eyes away from the corpse or the windows.

"So of these three, one is a vampire? We have Sophie, who mysteriously vanished, apparently to the cellar, and Bercilak, who at one point voted for himself. Bombasto's drinking has persisted throughout too. No doubt my own countenance looks just as strange to you three in some manner or another..."

She looks up at the guards, stoic as ever.

"And we all have to choose, unless we wish to be killed by our host for this event..."

 

[untitled_musketeer]

Bercilak listened to everything being said.

"I will take no further part in this madness. Our hostess is clearly a vampire hunter and capable of detecting these creatures. He success in identifying a beast and eliminating it was second to none. Why then does she insist we kill each other? For her sport and pleasure? Barbaric! Yes I am a Knight, and yes I can be a crude and rather brash man, but I am no barbarian.
I have already voted for too many innocent people and I no longer know what is the truth and what isn't. Therefore if I am to vote for anyone, I shall once again vote for myself. If I have to die it shall be by my own hand."

VOTE: Bercilak Bredbeddle/untitled_musketeer

 

[con-fusion]

"Perhaps we shall all end this day with a single vote. Perhaps that is just in some strange way. Regardless, I believe I shall leave this to Arden, and allow her to decide our fate. I stand by my vote from the last few days, for Sophie alone of those of us remaining has acted in a manner to arouse my suspicion."

Vote: Sophie

 

[Lord_Mortis]

"Miss Arden, more than one of us could be vampiric. If there's two- or more- we, or I in the latter case, are most definitely doomed. So with what happened last time I'd probably suggest voting- and soon as it'd be nearing nighttime now, and sealing someone's fate or voting for Sir Bombasto here who appears to be sticking to his choice of vampires and letting our gracious host pick out the beast."

She sighed, shuffling in her seat slightly and swapping her crossed legs around.

"If I'm being honest here, I think we're all as good as dead. Slim chance of picking out the creature with a large chance of accidentally murdering a human. And by the looks of it, they may even be a Witch Hunter, despite their gruesome and unnerving nature of dealing."

 

[con-fusion]

Bombasto laughs.

"Sir? Did you hear that, Bercilak? I've been knighted. Perhaps, if we get out of this alive, we'll end up in a joust instead of knifing one another in a dark alley for your revenge."

 

[The Archivist]

Arden nods.

"Well it falls to me to cast the deciding vote for this evening then. I'm afraid I think your absence is too suspicious to ignore, Sophie."

Vote: Sophie

 

[Disciple of Nagash]

A single bolt was all it took. There was no speech this time, no warning, just a thunk as and a moment later Sophie fell to her knees.

Seconds ticked by as they all waited, hoping.....but the wait was in vain as she failed to turn to dust.

"It seems that the beast has played you all for fools once more," Rompington finally spoke, "and no doubt another will perish in the night, it seems that tomorrow may be the last all you may experience."

With a sigh Rompington turned, only to have Gunter rush to her side, whispering urgently in her ear. As he eyes widened in shock she froze, before running after the Sergeant, leaving the remaining few to face the night.

[mod]Sophie / Lord_Mortis has been executed and revealed as just human. As the game draws to a close who will be victorious?

The night has now started, those with powers please PM me[/mod]

 

[con-fusion]

Bombasto's gaze follows Rompington as she runs from the hall.

"There goes the maker of this sick farce. I may die this night, but, if I do, I will spend my last moment cursing her name."

Bombasto turns on his heel and walks away toward his chambers.

 

[Disciple of Nagash]

Night came, and with it a cry of alarm from the walls of Rompington's manor.

"Milady! There are armies approaching!"

The Lady Rompington strode to the watchtower, already commanding her guards to the walls.

"Where? Who and why?"

The guard climbs up the steps behind her.

"One approaches from the north-west, milady. We believe it to be the Altdorf garrison, though we there are flags we do not recognise."

"There is a another?"

"To the south... from the pass to Sylvania. Though it seems to be a congregation of peasants..."

"That it comes when we have a beast within our walls suggests otherwise..."

Lady Rompington took up a spyglass hanging on the wall and confirmed what she already knew.

"Tell the guard captain to prepare for a siege. The armies will be warring outside our walls, no doubt about it."

------

Deep in the cellar, where the ash and corpses from the drama unfolding in the halls had been stored, brief sigils flickered amongst the ash of Erim. The boxes began to groan, and soon hands began bursting through...

------

In the halls, the remaining three guests stared each other down. One of them was a vampire, no doubt about it, but which one was still up for debate.

The tension snapped as the guards by the doors heard a knocking from the other side. They opened the doors to find themselves staring into the reanimated maw of Erelim.

As the guards were dragged screaming into the small crowd of reanimated victims, Lady Rompington charged in through the side door backed by four of her guards.

"You three! We must protect the nullstone, and you must decide which of you is the vampire before the night is over! We are under siege and we have little time!"

A guard tosses the weapons collected from the entrance way to the three, before pulling back the string on his crossbow.

[mod]The day has now started.....and it is your last day! Already time is of the essence, therefore this day will end this Friday night.

One of you is the vampire, can the other two figure it out in time?[/mod]

 

[The Archivist]

Arden grabbed up her bladed staff, twirling it for a moment before looking at the approaching zombies. She gagged a little before pointing her weapon.

"So it's either Bercilak or Bombasto..." she said to herself. She looks at the other two for a moment before steeling herself before the nearest corpse, that of Jean-Claude.

 

[con-fusion]

Bombasto laughs without mirth as Arden trails off.

"Shall we say it's either Bercilak or Arden? Or, maybe both? Or, perhaps Rompington is insane, and it is none at all. Regardless, it might not matter if this day goes ill and the either the walking dead roll over us here or armies outside grind this manor to dust between them."

Bombasto takes up a mace, and takes a couple of short somewhat competent-seeming swings.

"Still, there is some irony here. All together we killed them with our votes, and now together we must send them back to their rest in a more direct fashion."