RAF GAME 12 Round 2, five alive

Anticipation is the creator of disapointment, take my advice, don't let the excitment build
Fisher

Starling was late again.
Wolfy began to pace, as far as the narrow room would permit, this was the third time he would miss her. He cursed as he heard the watch bell ring the hour, he would have to leave in a few minutes, another day without seeing her. maybe she's found someone else
Wolfy cut a deconsolate figure in the gloom as he walked away from the inn, shoulders hunched he kicked at loose cobbles on his way.

Wolfy hadn't shown again.
Starling didn't bother pacing, she had had enough of his shit. He claimed he had given up his wild life, galavanting off on "adventures" and getting in trouble with that bloody man Hog. Enough was enough, she was going to find him, she'd waited at the inn three nights now.
They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned, try a woman who thinks she's been stood up.

Tattersail had watched the young theif stalk from the inn, after coming down the stairs in a fury. Some man's gonna get it in the neck tonight.
No man to take Tatts anger these days, only a cold lonely bed at nights. Don't go there Tattersail, nothing pleasant down that road
A caution to her head too late. a wave of bitterness and self pity washed over Tattersail and she thought back over the lovers she had had, one and all dead, many because of her. Holirk had it right, I am a poisoned chalice
Tattersail raised her flagon again, draining it, "Woman! more ale!"

Pathos regarded the artist over his cup of tea. gods, TEA, this is no place for me. A wiry little man the artist possessed a nervous disposition, could never sit at peace, currently he was stirring his tea, had been for several minutes, infact it had grown cold he had been at it so long, an everyone knew drinking teruy tea cold was fatal.
"So you see why I, ah, requested your presence?"
"No," Pathos wasn't going to mince his words, it wasn't his style, "you have to know I can not do it."
Dolmen's face fell, "I suppose I should have expected such an answer, but to paint one of the talon, capture his essence.."
"Sorry, no bones"
Dolmen nodded slowly sighing, he reached for his tea.
It took a second for Pathos to realise that Dolmen intneded to drink his cold tea, he suddenly jumped forward and clasped Dolmens wrist. Dolmens yelp of surprise was drowned out by Pathos' roar of agony. Pathos stumbled away from the table, one hand clawing over his shoulder, pulling out the quarell that had embedded itself there.
Pathos stared at the bloody tip of the bolt, he then turned slowly, to see who had fired it. Hog stood wide eyed in terror "Pathos, it was for the artist, that damned artist, you must understand"
Pathos did not understand, in fact if it was one thing Pathos was famous for it was not understanding. He drew his long knives and advanced on the hapless Hog.

A slippery looking fellow had watched the whole thing, his bald head gleaming with sweat, he was wearing several layers of clothes, and a fine chainmail undercoat as well. The heat was murder, but then murder was a possibility when you were Twelve.
Twelve, if anyone recognized the treacherous bastard he would be dead in a heartbeat, most famed villan in the lands. When people spoke of selling grandmothers, the stories are based on a man who did. For a jug of Falarian red too.
Pthos, looks like a Talon, he'll have to go
Twelve followed Pathos out of the tea house, calling out to him in a comradely manner as he walked, hilt of his dagger in his palm.
Pathos turned to see who hailed him, his mind still awash with pain he didn't notice the tilt of the strangers arm, didn't forsee the knife in his back.

Wolfy headed to their old haunt, hoping maybe she was there. Maybe find her with another, he thought morosely.
Tattersail was well lit when Wolfy walked in, nothing new there. too many memories, poor woman

Starling was seething by the time she returned to the inn, she'd found out that Wolfy had been going somewhere else when he was supposed to be meeting her some tart in the slums!
She walked in the door and saw Wolfy sitting in their old spot THE NERVE
Starling drew her knife and and crept around the walk, making sure she wasn't seen.
Tattersail was at the lowest Wolfy had ever seen her time to get her home I think Wolfy walked over to Tatts, "time to get home Tattersail, come this does you know good"
"Y'do, Y'don't understand, I have nothing, anything I have, I burn, Burn to ash." she fell silent for a moment "Burn to ash" she said the last quietly, to her self. She reached for her warren, ready to give herself to Thyr.
Wolfy had always been sensitive to magics, it was part of his trade after all, he sensed immeadiately what Tattersail was trying to do, "NO!" he shouted and lurched forward trying to shake Tattersail back to the world. The warm glow enveloped them both as Tattesail let her warren rip through her, Starling darted forward to stab wolfy in the back. Her knife acted like a lodestone for the heat and as the she dropped her knife with a howl wolfy turned from tattersail and staggered towards her, "Star, what?" he glanced down at the knife, a groan escaped him, wether from anguish or agony form his burns it was hard to tell "fuck". He collapsed unconcious as Tattersail burned herself to a cinder.

How it went:
Wolfy shot himself was attacked - surivived
Dolmen shot himself was attacked - survived
Twelve shot Pathos was not attacked - survived
Starling shot wolf was not attacked - survived
Pathos shot Hog was attacked - Died
Hog shot Dolmen was attacked - Died
Tattersail shot himself was not attacked - Died

4 remain
Round 2
Wolfy
Dolmen
Twelve
Starling

My internet access is poor until sunday and I'm tired and I really think next game I need to move to afresh setting, I'm out of ideas :blink:

This post has been edited by Macros: 12 October 2012 - 08:19 PM

Macros, on 12 October 2012 - 07:41 PM, said:

A slippery looking fellow had watched the whole thing, his bald head gleaming with sweat, he was wearing several layers of clothes, and a fine chainmail undercoat as well. The heat was murder, but then murder was a possibility when you were Twelve.
Twelve, if anyone recognized the treacherous bastard he would be dead in a heartbeat, most famed villan in the lands. When people spoke of selling grandmothers, the stories are based on a man who did. For a jug of Falarian red too.

I liked this, except for being bald. I have a nice head of hair still. Though it IS starting to creep up a bit. Damn genetics. I think there might still be a residual diplomacy grudge playing in my evil portrayal. MWHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!

Malazan Empire: RAF GAME 12 Round 2, five alive - Malazan Empire

RAF GAME 12 Round 2, five alive ready? aim... fire!

#241 twelve

#242 twelve

#243 Wolfy

#244 pathos

#245 Macros

#246 Macros

#247 Macros

#248 Macros

#249 Tattersail_

#250 Dolmen 2.0

#251 Starling

#252 Macros

#253 Macros

#254 Starling

#255 Macros

#256 Macros

#257 twelve

#258 Wolfy

#259 Starling

#260 Wolfy

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