DougFungus' Murder Mystery Tour (Inactive)

Game Master DougFungus

Von Zombi jumps to his feet and sweeps into a deep bow in front of Rashida Massri.

"Most Holy, it would be my honor!"

Watching the pair Cassie sips her drink; 'Of course that's where I saw him before. He's an oddbod.'

"Taraz's points are a good one, but if we believe the Dame (and with the General's assurances) then we must make sure that information is only to those whom need it. After the psychic medium's ascertain a couple of peoples identity then she can trust them too."

"Now I have just thought, the Lovers are not too deadly, in the right circumstances. As their love is doomed and even if a Mason is in love with a villain, she/he will kill themselves upon the villains demise. Where we might pay is in sharing of information."

Jin strolls in from the bathroom muttering, "Those stupid airships always leave me sick."

He adjusts his suit, adjusts his lion-mask, finds the nearest glass of bubbly, and tries to catch up on all the loud conversation... He heard some of it from the washroom, now it's just a matter of putting faces with voices.

To no one in particular, "Sorry I'm late! What did I miss?"

"Why, nothing. Nothing at all," Rashida laughs. Rising, she bows slightly and proceeds down the corridor Jin just emerged from.

"What did you miss? Nothing of consequence. Instead you shall witness the professor calling for my head since I am a boorish drunken oaf."

Taraz laughs, but then stops and shivers. "Ah...that feeling of deja vu again."

Seeing the newcome, Eldon immediately turns to him. "And what is this, a latecomer? Suspicious activity in and of iteself, of course that's the military upbringing. Why don't you tell us what you have been up to all this time?" The general gets uncomfortably close to Jin as he speaks.

Loudly, Taraz once again clamors for attention. "One final point before I return to relative silence on the matter, the only way the cat's plan works is everyone who is anyone reveals themselves to the Professor. The chances that this will happen is small, as surely one will be too suspicious to come forth. If so, then the one faker will be considered valid and all plans will go forward under the foolish notion that everyone included is safe."

Taraz picks a cherry from a bowl. Tossing it up and catching it, he shakes his head. "It is far too early for true Masons to make such claims. For if the claim is false, the true Masons will know it for what it is...a ruse to draw them out before their time. And as such they will keep their peace, much to the downfall of the detectives and bodyguards amongst us."

Tapping her fan heavily against her leg, she watches with quiet interest this newcomer and everyone's responses.

Night, all

3 of Jin's cousins are close-talkers, so the general's invasion of Jin's personal space is nothing new, nor that disconcerting.
"General Eldon? Yeah... I've been - how to say this delicately - I've been *sick* since I landed. Air travel does not agree with me. I heard the old man's announcement that there are assassins at the gathering and I did my best to clean up and get out here as soon as possible." Actually, I had inlaws and semester grades to deal with -- I may have rather been violently ill, lol. But I'm here now, so GAME ON :)

Jin flashes a smile to Cassie.

"Sick, eh?" Seeing the look he sends, the General smiles. "But not too sick, hmm? Carry on then."

Ingilstadt sits back, pours a glass of wine, and listens silently to the various conversations drifting through the room.

Wait until the lynchings start, then those with bold words and criticism of a plan will sing a different tune, calling for someone to lead them. The general, the helmet cat, the professor, they work to a greater good. But these others, crying about lovers, putting down those calling for action, yet offering no solutions of their own, they are true aristocrats, pompous, flighty, and vain. Voting for one another's Death will teach them a lesson not soon forgotten and the hands tick on the clock, soon the hour will draw to a close.

Taking another sip of wine, Ingilstadt continues to silently watch the spectacle unfold.

"Mr. Taraz, it is indeed the case that I have a rather large target painted upon myself, but it is not something that I plan on using as a shield. Were there a stalker or were there not, I would have suggested the same plan. As for my plan working only if all of the baners and all of the detectives come forward to Ms. Devries, it's not quite accurate. It is just less effective if fewer come towards her. As I've said before, if there are any Masons who wish to challenge whether she is genuine, they /must/ come forward now," says the feline Duchess. "If you /must/ slay me to be certain that I only have your best interests in mind, then so be it, if it means that you have the comfort of knowing that my plan is truly in your best interest. Though you are a lout, I only bear you ill will if you are an assassin. However, I do not recommend slaying me, as you will find that I am hiding nothing, and this will leave us at a disadvantage. Whether my suggestions are logical or perceived as logical to you, it is better to have a plan of action than to succumb to paranoia."

If Wowbagger had any mindreading skills, he'd be yelling 'right on' Ingilstadt.

The zombie baron sighs heavily and stands, looking about the room.

"I find myself at a bit of a loss, to be true. I see the validity of the Wastrel's claims, whether or not he offers an alternative."

The big dead man paces, cradling his broken hands.

"That being said, the Dame Mason and Her Furry Grace offer the clearest route forward for us. We have to trust in the judgment of the Mason to ensure that her network is not compromised by the assassins; failing that, she will require our co-operation to smoke the traitor from her midst before he or she manages to cripple our efforts."

His great, wasted head turns, the blue eyes of his half-mask sweeping the assorted aristocrats.

"I propose the following: That we give one hour's trust to the Dame Mason, and we refuse to play our gentle host's sick game by refusing to lynch one of our number this hour. Yes, this gives the assassins more crowd to hide in, but it also means that we will not ignobly condemn one of our own to death, for the odds are great that whomever we lynched would be an innocent."

He sighs again, and lowers his bulk back into his chair, his great booming voice suddenly quietening.

"I have also told two trusted parties of my suspicions as to the identities of two of the assassins. I believe that these creatures know I suspect them; thus, if my life is stolen from me again, condemning me once more to oblivion before I am re-animated less whole, my death may serve this time a higher purpose."

"Interesting play, Baron..." Taraz says as he swirls the contents of his goblet.

"I will think on your suggestion and make some inquiries of my own."

"Your servant, Lord Taraz," says the dead man, inclining his own glass to the wastrel.

"Very clever indeed," Vorian says with a smile, swirling the wine in his glass, "In which case, only one of us would die, rather than none." He would then halt, draining the rest of it in one go.

"But let us assume that these assassins are not aware of one another's identities. Perhaps they attempt to assassinate one another, only to realize that their goal is one and the same. Should they meet by the end of the hour, would they not become more dangerous than before? Even if this does not occur, abstaining from a vote does nothing more than guarantee that the assassins all survive."

I told you guys I was sick......

"An interesting point M. Ritter. And perhaps if the assassins have a loyal psychic medium of their own then the advantage of time might not end with us?" Cassie muses. "Especially if a assassin can kill a psychic."

"Seems a psychic would be a hard one to kill indeed."

Lights a cigar and takes in the group.

"And it would take one of your skill to achieve?" Cassie fishes...

Rashida strolls back in, the golden snakes encircling her arms glittering as she fans a long hand delicately before her face and coughs affectedly. "The good Duke could kill anything with that smoke," she proclaims, and saunters to the opposite side of the ballroom.

Taking a seat near Ingilstadt, she considers the wine he sips. "Any recommendations, my lord? Is that vintage good?"

"I have voted to lynch people and incited people to be executed on my word, and I have the blood of the innocent on my hands. Nevertheless, I still believe it is the right way to go to save the most people."

Wowbagger removes his hood and looks you in the eyes before scanning the rest of the crowd.

"I cannot be the strong one to start pointing fingers again and draw the ire of my fellow and the burden on my conscience. But I will follow a strong one. Sitting and waiting is not in our interest, and I have studied a great military mind on earth known as Clauswitz--he wrote a book called On War--it recommends not ceding the initiative to your opponent."

It turned out many innocents did not vote and did not believe in lynching last game. I was rash to assume it was an indication of guilt.

"There's initiative and then there's initiative, Lord Wowbagger. Secret action is not inaction. Lord Ritter is correct if one assumes we have no other way of gaining information than with a death or two. That is untrue. An hour without a death does not mean an hour lost. I urge patience." Rashida's long, gilt nails tick nervously on the table before her, and she looks about as troubled as a Daughter of Gods. Gods! or possibly of aliens.[TM] can be.

"What an intriguing turn of events. So many wanting inaction, or at least for us to wait so they can collect information." Cassie says laconically as if to herself.

"Lord Ritter, Lord Wowbagger, there is certainly wisdom in what you say, but attend: we do not cede initiative to the assassins; for we have already gained the initiative via the Dame Mason's bold move. The assassins cannot know each others' identities yet, and likely work at cross-purposes attempting to conceal themselves, whereas we have already begun forming the network that will lead to their downfall. We have the weather gauge, and they cannot steal it back."

The zombie lord smiles at the alien.

"Clauswitz is correct - but you certainly realize that we have the strategic initiative via the Mason network representing an informed majority, where the assassins are still in a state of uninformed minority, and ceding one hour's tactical initiative to retain that is not an offense, I believe."

"Most of us have lead men and women into battle, and at times lost the very lives of those, and saw to it our enemies perished, this then is a much smaller scale of woe and destruction, though the figure-heads of the armies remain the same."

Jin takes a sip of his wine and looks about the room. "I've never led anyone to battle... " He says with a shrug.
"I'm not in favor of letting the assassin or assassins just pick us off one at a time - waiting to vote out these imposters seems like a bad idea. Maybe the Immortal one has a point." The seriousness fades from Jin, and he finishes his drink in a gulp. "But then, what do I know... if the General and the Baron say wait, they sound like they have a strong mind for strategy."

"I would say to wait as well. Right now, we are acting from maximum ignorance, and we may target someone who could prove to be a great boon to us," says Meowselsworth II. "Our detectives provide us with an advantage, especially if they are linked up by Professor Devries's gambit. In the next hour, we will no longer be operating based on maximum ignorance."

"Interesting, many not wanting to lynch anyone. I suppose after the first blood is split people will believe differently." Cassie quietly muses. "I am not rushing out to hurt anyone, especially given the lack of information. However this is very telling..."

She throws her hands up dramatically; "This is silly. We need something to discuss."

"If somebody doesn't invite me to dance, I'm going to scream," Rashida mutters, "Better to go out dancing than sitting."

"I would gladly dance with you, Most Holy. That is, if you don't mind me being dead and having these two left feet of mine."

Couldn't find the right one, don'tchaknow.

Cassie looks down to see if they sewed on two left feet to the Baron. 'It would make buying shoes difficult, but quite easy to shoplift them.'

While the Baron is obviously quite prone to hyperbole, his heavy square boots make it difficult to tell if he is serious this time.

Ingilstadt picks a bottle from the table, fills two glasses, hands one to Rashida and takes the other, sipping from it to show that no foul play is at work. "I prefer this vintage, though not the most expensive or celebrated, it is finely crafted and reminds me of better days back home."

Lifting the glass it toast, then tilting it back for a long drink, Ingilstadt savors the wine, then places the glass on table and holds out a hand to Rashida. "A dance would be most welcome, we'll have our fill of misery soon enough, let's enjoy life while our hearts still beat strongly." Quickly the mask swivels towards the Baron, "My apologies, good sir, I did not mean disrespect to your condition with my comments."

Von Zombi strides to Ingilstadt and bows before him.

"I did not take it as disrespect; no need to apologize, good sir. Baron Gigus Von Zombi, at your service."

He nods to Rashida.

"My own apologies for interrupting. You two, enjoy your dance."

Rashida clinks glasses with Ingilstadt and sips delicately at the wine. She rises and takes Ingilstadt's hand. "Gladly, Lord Ingilstadt. Gallant Baron, you shall be next on my dance card." She nods at Von Zombi and accompanies Ingilstadt to the floor, following his lead in the florid waltz.

"In the old country people danced in groups, split off as pairs, and rejoined again in time with the music. Come Baron, join us, grab a partner, the others among you as well, if we can lynch one among us as a group, then we can twirl on the dance floor together as well."

Ingilstadt holds out a hand to Cassie and Wowbagger, encourages Taraz and Professor Alessandra, scoops up the little helmet cat and places it on the broad shoulders of the Baron, corrals Jin, the Duke, Vorian, and the General towards the dance floor.

"Let not fear rule our evening, we came here for a party, now let us eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we may die."

"Let me show you some moves I learned from Charlie Sheen."
His moves are somewhat alien.

I suspected as much, Rashida muses to herself.

"Dancing is to be the sport of the evening is it? I have not so much age in my bones nor brandy in my belly to prevent me from dancing."

Looks over the band and hopes they play on even when the ship goes down!

The Duchess seems rather surprised when picked up and placed upon the Baron's shoulder. "Well, it seems that my dance partner has been chosen! I suppose it is best to keep morale high, as my late mother would say."

Meowselsworth dances. It's adorable.

Cassie approaches Duke Leto, placing her hand upon his shoulder. "I would love to dance. We may not be as lovely as the cat; but not like 'penguins in the jungle.'" she lets him lead her to the dancefloor.

"Always a pleasure."

"A slow dance, appologies for my smell of cigars and brandy, I am certain you have the essence of lillies upon your delicate skin."

Cassie brings her dark fan to her face and flutters it. "I thank you, for the compliment. Always apreciated; never expected." She dances softly next to him, the rolling melody of the band makes her melt away. "The smell of a good brandy, shows your decorum. Where did you learn to dance this well?"

Von Zombi laughs hugely as he dances with the Duchess.

"I am glad we see eye-to-eye on this, as well as on other things, Your Grace."

Vorian raises his visible brow considerably high as everyone begins to dance to the music. Finishing his wine with one last draught, he places the empty glass on a nearby table and drops his cane to the floor. Walking towards the dance floor, he sweeps his hand towards those women without a partner, smiling warmly.

"Perhaps one of you would be so kind as to join me? I have picked up my fair share of solo dance moves during my travels, but I am afraid the majority of them would be a tad too dangerous to do amongst others - and the music would not fit at all!"

Taraz continues to watch the crowd, his eyes narrowed and a wolfish smile plays on his lips. Without a doubt, everyone can tell he is scrutinizing each in turn. Or perhaps he is just having trouble focusing his eyes. That is his sixth goblet of something after all.

Cassie breaks off the dance with the Duke as they pass Taraz on the way to a table she asks; "Like what you see, Wastrel?" her tone sharp; "I think you'll not find a weapon on my posterior, or wherever else you were staring!"

Noticing the commotion, the Baron sweeps towards Cassie, gently depositing Her Fuzzy Grace on Duke Leto Atredies' broad shoulder along the way.

He leans towards DuSollier, saying gently "My lady, I do not believe Lord Taraz meant any harm. He is quite in his cups, after all."

Sorry Meowselsworth; you're just getting cat-handled all over the place!