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The setting: The 11th century Irish countryside, in the sleepy town of Flarev. The town is a small farming community of only 16 families. Being such a small town as it is, the families naturally know each other very well. Long have they worked together to keep the town as prosperous as it has been, and the fall harvest is always most bountiful. Flarev has never been a place of economic interest, nor of trade, nor of any real concern to the outside world. It has heart, and tradition, and hope - and that is what the community thrives on.

It so happened that one day and one night saw the end of the idyllic peace that enraptured Flarev since its inception. The town was enshadowed one night by a lunar eclipse. The moon turned blood-red, and terror ran through the sinews of the town's more feeble-hearted denizens. Eerie, wolflike howls could be heard through the night, and few slept restfully. The next morning, as one of the fair young maidens of the town was drawing water from the town well, she let out a horrendous scream. For it was not water that filled the bucket she drew, but blood.

News of this quickly flooded the town like a trickle of water being poured over a flat dish. It was evident that there was dark magic at work in Flarev, but no one knew where the source was. Some suspected witchcraft, others thought it was the craft of the devil. But the entire town immediately became worried and suspicious. And, needless to say, everyone went to sleep uneasily that night. And still the wolflike howls penetrated the night air.

Regrettably, one family would never wake up from that sleep. For the townspeople awoke to notice that one of the 16 homes had been destroyed - the residence of nForcer and his family. The door, covered in claw marks, had been ripped off its hinge and the sight inside the house was ghastly. Blood was strewn about the floor, and the corpses of nForcer and his family were barely recognizable. Beds were ripped apart, tables were overturned, and the walls of the house looked on the verge of collapse. The only clues the townspeople found were 3 bloody sets of paw prints that led out of the house and then circled repeatedly around the cursed well.


The elder speaks slowly, and carefully. "My friends, something has to be done about this peril we all face. I have heard many legends of the werewolves in times past. Surely these were-wolves, who quite clearly walk amongst us, will continue to tear us limb from limb if we do not do something."

"But how will we be able to determine who the wolves are?" asks Lightdarkness.

"You really can't," says the elder, "unless you were to wait around at night and watch for the wolves. And our homes are spread too far apart to be able to see the others from safety. Besides, you know our supply of candles is limited. Even if we were to find the wolves at night, it's unlikely that we would be able to match them in combat, for they can see in the dark. And could we even recognize our beloved friends in wolfish form?"

"Why are we the only ones assembled?" asks KilgaMayan. "Couldn't the werewolves be our husbands, wives, and children?"

"I know much of werewolf lore," says the elder. "The werewolf curse selectively targets the masters of the family. It is said that the other members of the family cannot detect the duality of their loved one until the end comes."

"The end?" mutters a visibly worried Tasselfoot.

"Yes, the end," says the elder, "when the wolves match the human families in numbers, they kill them all that night without fear of retribution. The curse is then spread to their families, and the werewolf population grows. In order to prevent the wolves from conquering all humanity, they must be stopped here. No one may leave the town until we kill the wolves."

"Then they must be stopped here! Here, and now, we make our stand!" says Kefit. "We stay here, and wait for the sun to set and the true wolves to emerge!"

"We cannot," says the elder. "Wolves can go for days without sleep - having us all assembled in one place simply makes their jobs easier. There's only one solution to do away with the wolves."

"A vote," says FishFishRevolution. "A town-wide decision to decide who lives, and who dies."

"Unfortunately," says the elder. "Hopefully, our community will be able to recover from this. But we must not let paranoia consume us. We only kill one person a day until the murders stop."

The townspeople pause to reflect on the irony of those words.

"What if you're a wolf?" asks TPS of the elder.

"Only grown, athletic, physically fit individuals have the potential of becoming werewolves. An old man like myself could most certainly not be a wolf. As such, I'll stay out of the debates. Besides, it's irrelevant if an old man like me, past my prime and without children, sees the end of my days tonight. If I am to be killed by the wolves, so be it. I shall not involve myself in the proceedings."

"Let your fears be somewhat allayed, friends, for the wolves are not without bane. In wolfish times such as these, two great people are sent to help us. One can look into a person's true heart and find if they are wolfish in nature. The other can extend their holy influence to protect a home from the entry of wolves. May they guide our actions, and may they be safe from the wolves. By sunset we must have a decision on which member of our party must be put to rest, for the sake of us all. O, what dark times are upon us..."

The congregated townspeople begin to talk amongst themselves as to who the wolves may be, and who killed ...


Yes, nForcer is dead

You have about 50 hours for day 1 voting: 4 PM EST on Friday