The player is given all information about their role; there are no hidden powers
A couple other ideas that I've been tossing around:
MafiaScum requires all their GMs to have experience playing on their site before GMing. Sufficient experience playing elsewhere may be considered as a substitute, but it is generally considered a good idea to have experience with the local game culture first. Now that we are several games deep and we have a bunch of regulars, do we want to institute something like that?
I'd like to propose that anyone running their first game runs the setup by either an experienced GM or a dedicated Club-Deder to get help identifying the correct categorization and to check for a good balance. This rule would also kick in if an experienced GM is waffling about the categorization of their game.
Welcome, [Player Name], you are a Cop [Townie|Mafia].
Once per night choose a target, you will attempt to determine the complete role card of your target. If you do not choose a target one will be chosen for you randomly from the current set of living players.
You may self-target.
You are sane.
You win when all threats to the town have been eliminated.
And with that, the mob has ruled. Justice will be served, such as it is. @pydsigner pulls out his custom whittled Pipe Pistol, places it against @Vault_Dweller's forehead. @Vault_Dweller has just enough time to spit on @pydsigner's shoe before he pulls the trigger.
The Town Guard move in to clear up the body as everyone turns to the unsavory, but less grisly task of searching through @Vault_Dweller's belongings.
You are a citizen of Bunker Hill with a dark past. A past that has caught up with you. You must collect enough caps in 7 days or less to buy out your dark past and survive into the next week. The only way you can get that many caps is…. Theft. You will have to steal them from the increasingly paranoid shopkeepers.
You are a Tracker! Each night, you may investigate one player in the game and you will discover which player they targeted (if any).
Your sword is your dagger. Once per night you may target a citizen of Bunker Hill and… take everything they have. It's distasteful, but it is the only way….
You win when you have stolen everything you need to pay off your dark past, or when nothing can prevent the same.
... Well. For once, Blind Justice aimed true. That's the last of the thieving scum. Bunker Hill is safe once more. As safe as it's possible to be in the Commonwealth that is.
Before @Vault_Dweller can realize what's going on, you grab him and lead him towards the ocean. Working in tandem, you restrain his movements - he tries to resist, but he realizes his fate as soon as you force him to kneel. You grab his head and hold it under water - he flails wildly, trying to free himself, but you don't stop until his body goes limp. You leave him close to the shore, face-down, to rest with all the other victims of the wreckage.
Vault_Dweller has died on day 3!
You're a passenger! Out of all the things you've feared before the cruise, getting stranded on a desert island with a bunch of terrorists was not on the top of the list. And yet, here you are - with most of your possessions somewhere at the bottom of the sea, and a group of people who may or may not want to murder you in your sleep. As much as you'd like to enjoy the sun and the water, something needs to be done about that situation…
You're vanilla! Unfortunately, all the knowledge and abilities you may have once had are either too rusty, or not exactly useful in this situation. But hey, maybe someday someone will appreciate your mad saxophone playing skills... For now, however, the only weapon you have is your vote, and your faction kill if applicable.
"And now... it's your turn" - @heterodox turns to @djls45 with a wicked grin on his face. - "You're my last sacrifice. The Master will be pleased."
"So it was you..." - @djls45 replies, patting the dust behind his back in search for something to defend himself.
"He came to me in my dream..." - @heterodox keeps talking, pulling a rusty knife from his back pocket and holding it tight. - "He knew we'll end up here, and he gave me a mission. A mission I will soon fullfill... Now, die!"
Suddenly, @heterodox lunges at @djls45... only for @djls45 to give him a solid whack with a wooden plank. He pauses, stunned for a moment - and that's enough for @djls45 to pin him down and start wrestling him for the knife. They keep rolling in the sand, fighting, until @djls45 finally manages to rip the knife out of @heterodox's hand and stab him in the abdomen. He falls to the ground, with his eyes wide open.
Exhausted and beaten up, @djls45 kneels on the sand, the knife slipping from his hand and hitting the ground. He takes a few deep breaths and stands up, heading for the documents and the satellite phone. It was a long and risky endeavor, but he made it - now all that's left is to call for extraction and spend the rest of his life in luxury...
Suddenly, he feels something holding his legs, and trips.
@heterodox doesn't waste any time - fighting the pain, he gets a jump on surprised @djls45 and starts furiously stabbing his chest. He dies just as the knife pierces his heart, but @heterodox doesn't stop, mutilating @djls45's body in a wicked frenzy. Finally, he plunges the knife between his ribs one last time, leaving it sticking out of the body.
djls45 has died on day 3!
You're a terrorist! On the first day of the cruise, a group of masked men barged into your cabin to persuade you to join their cause. A promise of ten million dollars and a muzzle of an AK-47 under your chin finally convinced you - all you needed to do was to take the ship over and deliver a bunch of top-secret documents to the shore of Somalia. While that plan didn't exactly go too well, you and (snipped) are still alive, the stash is in a safe place, and now all that's left is to get rid of those pesky passengers…
You win when all the other passengers are killed, or nothing can prevent it.
You're a roleblocker! It's never been difficult for you to make people helpless and unable to resist you. You say it's your innate charm that does the trick, the FBI watchlist says it's Rohypnol... luckily you've managed to bring both to the island. Each night, you can pick a person and prevent them from taking their night action.
Unable to move, @heterodox lies on his back, staring into the clear blue sky. "Are you proud, Master?" - he whispers under his labored breath. - "I did it. They're all dead, just like you told me."
There's no response, other than the rumbling waves... but @heterodox smiles, closing his eyes.
"Now, take me, Master..." - he speaks for the last time, and then the island grows quiet again.
heterodox has died on Day 3!
You're self-aligned! You win when everyone else is made to serve N'ghishurath, the eternal ruler of Nesperdia, for the eternity and beyond. T̢̜͔̝͍͗ͤ̌̔ͣ́̔h̗̮̤͙̦͛͑̔͂̽e̵̼̻̗̿ͧy̶̰̩̗͎͇̪͔̙̑̃̎̔͜͝ ̑͊͂̾҉̵̭̫͓̙m̻̼̺̱̠̈́̄́͢ͅu͎͍̜̫͙̘̟̯ͤͧ̄ͧ̀͝ͅs̭̣̳̫̘ͪͫt̢͓͕̼̳̹͈͕̓ͩ̋ͨͫ͞͞ ̢͎̗̖̗̰̥ͭ̏ͯ́ͤͫ͛̚͟ạ̸̈́ͣ́ͬl͔̼ͮ̌̇ͅl̛̥̮̯͑͒͂̓̏́ͩ́ ̵̛̼̖̮͈͙̻͍͉̗̌͋̏̀̎ͨ̅d͉͇͙͎̮̤̳̓ͫ̍ͤ͆̽́ͥͨ́̀ͅi̺̩͉̲̙̝̹̘̎̊̓́̒̋̆̉̄̕͠e̠͉̿ͯ̿͛̑,̸̶͔̻̣̼́ͥͫ͑ͤ̀̓̆̕ ̢̺͕̦̤̮̼̼̓̋͐̄͛͋ͫ̀͝ͅͅf̦͈͓̩͙́ͩͬ̀̊ͬỏ̳̩̣̼̬̠ͥ̇̀r̴̙̪͔̣͈͕͓͇͋͡ ̧̭͚̩̬̘͚̘͉͊ͧt̛̺̥̪̪̜̾͑̓͛̽ͨ͢h̸̛͇̱̗̼͌̊ͤͤ͋ͯ͒e̷̡̢̲̰̳͖̱͚̥͋̓ͮ͗̚ ͮ́͑͒͊̂͆́͘҉̬̰̞̰̳͕͓̣͞g̼̥͊̆̆l̒͑͗̿̍ͭ͒̚͟҉̗̟̻͙̫̳̥̠ọ̡̊ͯ͋ṛ̥̺̪͇̯̮̖̻́ͨ̀͢͠y̹͉̥͆͛ͅ ̲̜͕̪̐ͭͩ̊͌ͦ̾̽͝o̠̙̝̤̭̘̩̞ͮ̈́f̦̭̝̹͖͎̙͉͗̂ͨ̅̇ ̛͍̫̙͈̠̗͙͕̭͋ͯt͈̭̖̉̔̿̈́̽͟͡ḫ̨̛̝̝̮̩̊ͫ̐ͤ́͠e̦̩̹̰͍ͭ̄̓͛̉ͥ́͘ ̢̙̲̲̱̲̞ͭ͊̔ͫͅÓ͙͚̜̹̂͌͐̋̐̾͝v̵͖̦̭̹͔̬ͤ̈͛ͣ̆͝ę̬̻͍͖͋̍ͥ̏r̶̡̩̘͌͊ͩḷ͉̲͂ͦ̀o̪͎͔̫ͧ͋̈̒͗́̀͠͠ŗ̥̩̯̹̃͟ͅd̞͍̩̦̦̻̂͗̽̓̋͒̃͟ͅ.̉̈́ͦ҉͏̦̰̰̻͙̩̹͖ ̶̢̻̞͕͑̓̔̿̈̚͘Y͉̪̮̲̬̬̊̽̓̆͊̈̈̓̓ŏ͖̳̜ͭ̂̇̀u̳̤͚̬̪͈͉͓ͭ́͊̓ ̷̰̠̝̳̹ͣ̇̔̄͒ͯ͌͊ͬ̀h̸̬̀̃̀̇͑͊̏ͯâ̴̦͖ͩ̓͜v̙͆e̷̝̮̞͕̞͊͆͂͋̄̄̇ͫ͟ͅ ̮̱͙̜͖̣̺̬̍̿ͭ͌͂ͫ̈́̊͢b̸̡̹̞̙̯̳͔̻̻̫̆̎ͯ̋̉ͮͣ͑̐͞ȅ̵̠͇̙̫͋͊ͬ͘͢e̛̛͙̹̐͐͒̓͂͠n̮̟͇̠ͣ̓̓͆̒̔ͣ̚͞ ͙̬͚̪̙̥͗̇́̕͢č̶̨̂͐̀̇̃̎̽ͭ͏̯̯̞ḣ̸̡̰͛͆ͪ̋o̧͓͖̳̖̱̖͊͞ş̦̔͊͑ͩ̄ͥ̈́ͭ͠e̶̶͙̓̿͞nͤ̀ͬ͛ͦ̏ͧ͜҉̺͔̫͖̠.̟͙͙͎̯͔̝̝ͮͩ͘ ̙̲̞̊͌́͠͡Ỹ̽ͥͦ̊҉̦͈͎̮͎̲o̞̯̰̘̞̤͌ͦ̋̈̇u̴̴̻̪͕͙͖̪̻ͪ͑ͬ̒̾͢ ̛ͭͤ̀ͫ͒ͧ̇ͮͤ҉̹̮͢m̧̖͙̰̜̥̦͙̳ͪͣͦͦ͜ͅu̧͖̳̼̝̎ͅş̹̫̰̜̩ͤ̃ͣ̍ͭt̜̽͒͐̂ͪ͂̽ ̷̒͏̖̺͉̮̙͕͖͔̤s͔̯̟̙͎̦̜̦̐̍͗e̶̙̽ͯ̋͂̌̇̕r̪͙͈ͩͪ̒̓̃́̾̑͞v̷̧͈͍̏͌̒̀eͣͮ̏ͫ͌̏̄̀͢͏̩̖̩̠̘̫̻ ̷̢̳̥̦͓̄ͮͭͭ͑̾̎̉͋͟ẗ̙̥̝̥́͋͝ȟ̻̹̻̲̦̖ͦ̓́͛̅́e̵͙͈̱̹̲̱̜͕ͪ̀̇ ͗̉ͧ̎͊ͪ̀̀͏̸̸̣̙̼̺O̫̟ͮ͆͌ͧ̓̌ṿ̫̻̪̥͙̱̑̿̒͗̀͜e̷̠̠̲̰̯̩ͬ̾ͩ̔̓͋͊͢r̵͙̯̫̗̻ͤ͞͡l̖̼̪̏ͩ͌̃̌ō̴̞̬̬̇͑ͯͬ͐ͯ̚̕͜r̜̤̙͚͕̳͈͉̙ͪ̉̂͐̀͠d̬͍͇ͯ͊̋ͫ͡.̴͙̤ͣ̆ͤͨ̽ͮ ̶̻̻͎̝̜̜͆͗͊͗͆ͬ͠͝ͅY͔̟̜̲̣̮̠̬ͧ̈͒ͣ̾ͧ̈́o̍̈́̾̈́̾̎̎ͯ͠҉̩̠̼̺̠̻͓̩ǘ͕͙̯̎̋ ̟͎̘͓͈̯̏̔͛̇ͣ̏͜͝m̛̤̙͕͚̙̙̭͈̬̓ͪ̾ű̠̫̇ͥ̄ͤs̬̞̹̗̓̔̆͜t͈̳̣̬̭̪͚̱̑͂ͥ̾́ͅ ̷͈͉̹̭̲͎ͥ̏̎ͤͫ͛̃̌͒ķ̬̦͖̼͇̬͋̏ͩͦ̅̓į̦̞̰͒̏͑̆l̢͍̠̠̩̀̆͑͛͡ͅlͭ̔ͪ͋͑҉҉͙̺͉͖̣̬̟ ͍͚͉̲͎̣ͣ̊t͔͕͍̜͖̘̜̅ͨ͋́h̡̺̹̠̯͖͚̓ͣ̂ͭ̇̍̚͘͠ě̵̟̣ͣ̋̏ͧ̈́m̡̳̱̤͋ͯ̂ͨ͢ͅ ̀̑̏̓̓̃͏͕̠̳ȃ̼̙͚̹̠̜͍̓l̒͆ͦ҉̸̠̗̼̟̠̮͍̼̰͞ļ̶̷̺̑.̰͍͓̳͋ͫ̈́͝ͅ
You're a serial killer! Before you've boarded the ship, you had a strange dream. A seven-horned beast appeared before you in a cloud of smoke, tellling you amongst ominous chants to "kill every last one of them". And no matter the circumstances, the will of N'ghishurath will be realized. Each night, you can pick a person and release their soul from its useless mortal shell.
A few weeks later, a rescue operation finally managed to find the wreckage. By that time, however, it was too late to save anyone - all they could do was to wrap up the bodies and give them a proper burial back home. The obligatory autopsies raised quite a few questions - but in the interest of national security, none of them have been released to the public. As far as everybody was concerned, the ship has succumbed to the storm, killing all the passengers before the remains of the ship reached the island. Aside from a few doctors and high-ranking military staff, no one has ever found out what really happened on board.
This is a thread for the lovers. You may discuss the game privately in this thread at all times.
You boarded the ship as strangers - now, you can't imagine leaving it in any other way than in each other's embrace. While all the other passengers are left to deal with loneliness on their own accord, you've been rocking the boat every night and blaming it on the waves every day ever since HMS Titanic II has left the port. Before you can start planning your life together, though, it's crucial to deal with the current situation - after all, Somalia is not a very good place for a honeymoon...
Another thought about semi/demi/hemi-open setups - perhaps it'd be better to only reveal the setup to the players once the rolecards are out (with an early reveal/RFC for club ded, of course).
This way, players can't publicly over-analyze the game before it starts without regard for their future roles.
(Of course this is only a good idea if club ded will do the over-analyzing and pointing out of any flaws instead)
"You have done well, you have even defeated us. This time at least. But know this, You still owe a blood debt, and those that it is owed to will collect it. Rest easy for now, for the next time they come to collect you will not prevail!"
So saying @ChaosTheEternal puts the gun to his chin and pulls the trigger. BLAM! HOLY CARP! The gun may have been unloaded, but the chamber hadn't been cleared. That gave @ChaosTheEternal only one shot, but then he only needed one.
With @ChaosTheEternal dead, the rest of the councilors look around at each other in surprise, shock and horror. No one is quite certain who started laughing first, but quickly the surviving councilors are all laughing, a tired and nervous laughing to be sure, but laughter it is.
With the villains defeated, for now, there is much work to be done by the council, they have an entire industry to reorganize, and then there is the work they must do to prepare for the next time...
Eventually a clerk taps @aliceif on the shoulder and hands her a note:
Welcome, ChaosTheEternal. You are a Mafia Goon. Your assigned flower is Oleander
Factional communication: During the night phase only you may talk with your partners here [QuickTopic link].
Factional kill: Each night phase, one of you or your partners may perform the factional kill. Once a mafia member has attempted a faction kill they may not do so again until all other surviving mafia members have attempted at least as many faction kills as they have.
You win when all members of the town have been eliminated or nothing can prevent this from occurring.
All players please stand by for the full reveal of club ded, and the scum thread as our neighborhood, friendly, admins clean up this game in preparation for (scrabbles with notes) "The Resistance" run by... @r10pez10? huh. well that should be an absolute blast!
You agree on your plan and set of into the night to do your nefarious deeds. You all hope that your planning this night was enough to do what must be done to secure the overthrow of the flower council.
@accalia when someone is killed will we be told of any flowers they had that night?
I have thought on this and i have decreed thus:
any information that would have been presented to the faction killed player at the dawn checkin will be present in the flip post, although it may be phrased differently than it would have in the dawn checkin to fit better with the theme of the public dawn results.
The crowd of damned souls collect around @dangeRuss. @Jaloopa and @Yamikuronue grab @dangeRuss’s wrists, dragging him, kicking and screaming, to a pole in the town square as some of the others take bales of straw from nearby and begin cutting them loose and spreading the straw around his feet. A chant begins softly amongst the gathered souls, inaudible at first, as the first bits of straw are laid out, and @Jaloopa wrenches @dangeRuss’s arms backwards around the pole, @Yamikuronue applying thick ropes to @dangeRuss’s crossed wrists. The chanting rises in volume, becoming more distinct, but still not quite understandable, as @heterodox grabs some of the straw and walks to the edge of the square, to one of the torches that lights the area during the dark hours of this infernal hellscape. @heterodox takes the bundle of straw and lights it on fire just before chanting reaches a level where words can be distinguished, then adds his voice to the chanting, shouting the words out. As he turns and marches deliberately back to the pole, @dangeRuss’s protestations have grown quiet, his eyes wide in shock and fear, the crowd’s chanting becoming a shout, mindless rage festering throughout the assembled souls. @heterodox reaches the pole, and the square is plunged into silence as all chanting stops. @heterodox looks @dangeRuss right in the eyes and repeats, quietly,
Liar, liar, pants on fire.
one last time before dropping the burning straw at @dangeRuss’s feet, the square erupting into incoherent, bloodthirsty yells, rapidly drowned out by an angry roar as @dangeRuss' skin bursts into flames, scales appearing as the fire rushes across his body, extending beyond the top of his head and leaving two horns in its wake. The demon lord shrugs off his restraints and roars at the crowd, his fetid breath washing over the collected souls for but a moment before his roar comes to an abrupt halt. @dangeRuss falls to the ground, a dagger protruding from his forehead. The crowd looks for the source in shock, seeing @Maciejasjmj with his arm outstretched in the middle of the crowd, a smirk on his face.
That smirk vanishes as another roar sounds behind him, @asdf's human disguise falling away to reveal his demonic form. @asdf lifts a hand, tipped with wicked claws, preparing to finally end this pathetic uprising. Just then, @Yamikuronue shouts, a second dagger in her own hand, as she leaps on @asdf's back, wrapping her arms around him and plunging the dagger into @asdf's chest. With a gurgling rasp, @asdf reaches behind him, grabs @Yamikuronue's shoulders, rips her off of him, and slams her head into the ground, crushing it with a wet smack. @asdf glares with the fire of Hell itself at @Maciejasjmj, but the demonslaying dagger in its chest has already taken its toll, and he falls to the ground as well.
@Maciejasjmj looks at his fallen disciple, then shifts his gaze to the crowd around him, launching into a brilliant speech about how he, a powerful damned soul hardened by centuries in the Ninth Circle, came to Brenton to save its citizens from the harsh rule of its demon overlords and the unholy restrictions of regular pants. He expounds upon the virtues of kilts, the freedom of movement, which he intends to mirror in his just rule over the city itself. The remaining survivors nod in agreement, eventually being swayed by his arguments.
Six months after The Revolution, @Yamikuronue has been resurrected by the power of Hell meant to ensure that damned souls suffer for all eternity, and @abarker has been retrieved from the Sixth Circle, along with all of the other damned souls who ended up there. Their burns have all healed, leaving behind terrible scars in most cases. @Maciejasjmj, true to his word, has taken up the mantle of Lord of Brenton, and he and his subjects, clad in fine kilts, are prospering under his cunning rule, trade and the raids of nearby settlements flourishing. Attempts have been made to crush this upstart damned soul who dares to rule in Hell, but none have gotten past the demonslaying daggers of @Yamikuronue and @abarker, promoted to @Maciejasjmj's personal bodyguards and advisors. @Maciejasjmj has also started training his other subjects in the use of these daggers, setting his sights on more lofty goals.
Back in The Club of Ded within the Sixth Circle, the disembodied spirits of @asdf and @dangeRuss float amongst the bar's more corporeal patrons, bickering endlessly about how they could have handled the situation better, filling the time with ultimately pointless arguing as they wait for their power to grow to the point that they can once again take solid form, and get revenge.