Ready, Aim, Fire! (Round 11) (Banquet Arcana)

[Silkenfist]

First of all: Sorry for the delay, sorry for the gargantuan introduction post. But...it's DISCWORLD. Even now I want to continue writing.

This is a table. It is not an ordinary table but it is not in an ordinary place either. It is placed exactly on top of the spire at the centre of the world. The world in question is a ten-thousand-mile disc on top of four elephants on top of a giant turquoise swimming through the universe. It is inhabited by humans, dwarves, trolls, lycanthropes and some minor even more exotic species. Their lives are overseen by the gods, who reside at the centre of the Discworld, high above the clouds. In their domain Dunmanifestin they casually observe their lives and partake in games, gambling with the mortals’ lives for their mere amusement. The table, on which the games are played, defies the fact that its legs would have to follow the rotation of the world around it, ripping it to shreds. The gods don’t care for such nuances. Right now a large group of gods has gathered around the table. Fate, who had only lost one game at the table ever, had started to talk at the other gods to convince them of a game he had invented himself. The reactions of his audience are rather adverse, given their experience with Fate’s idea of pleasant games.
“I still don’t get it. Why can’t we just stick to ‘Armies and Generals’?’
“Because we are fresh out of armies. We could instigate a war somewhere in Überwald but the recruiting and stuff would take a while”
The crocodile-headed Offler responds with a groan: “Civil War then?”
“Oh Offler, don’t spoil his fun.” The gods turn their heads to look at the goddess, who – despite her actual realm being known by now – had preferred to keep letting herself called ‘The Lady’. Since she was the only one who – with the help of an aged Barbarian – was able to defeat Fate at the gambling table, she had gained even more reputation then before among the gods. “He is proud of it and he deserves a chance to show it. Let’s give it a chance. Below her blindfold, her lips form a smile as she turns to Fate. “Go ahead. Show your creation”
Fate, not knowing whether to be glad about the support, hastens to proceed. “Of course. Just let me set up the table…”

This is Ankh-Morpork. It is simultaneously the greatest (only in terms of size), most diverse, most magic-susceptible and most depraved on the Discworld. One million inhabitants are governed by the warm empathic reign of patrician Havelock Vetinari who has a habit of curing tendencies to call his reign tyrannical with extended visits to the scorpion pits below the palace. Only a few hundred yards counterturnwise, the Unseen University, home of the Discworld's best wizards can be found. Its Tower of Arts stands high above the rest of the city with all of its 800 feet, while the rest of the buildings sprawl around it in an ever changing chaos. The University has a history of violent power struggles, determined by the hierarchical structure of the eight wizard levels. The University could only hold a certain amount of wizards of a given level, causing a pyramid that culminates in the one 8th level wizard, simultaneously archchancellor and overseer of the University. This had led to a climate of mistrust and backstabbing when ambitious low-level wizards attempted to quicken their advance by thinning the ranks of the higher wizards. Both the use of spells and the use of broken glass in the dinners had been popular in order to clear a spot among higher levels. This time peaked when the Sourceror appeared and nearly destroyed reality itself with his ambitions and his might. After a short period that left the University in ruins and many high-level wizards dead or thrown into other dimensions, the board of the faculty installed an archchancellor who had not been involved in the power struggles in order to calm the situation for a while and line up to dispose him when the time was right.
However, the plan did not work out even. Mustrum Ridcully, who had been chosen as archchancellor, had no ambitions to rule the world by use of magic. On the other hand, he had no intent to give up his power or his life either. Ridcully resisted dozens of assassination attempts by both skill in wizardry and the use of two loaded crossbows under his pillows. He also kept a tight reign on the seventh-level wizards and caused a general change of the climate in the University.
It might have been the bad experience with overambitious wizards, but since the inauguration of Ridcully, the assassinations of higher-level wizards had entirely ceased. There still were occasional deaths because of magical mishaps in the library or a random dimensional rift popping up. Other than those natural causes however, life at the University had become more and more sedate and even the most ambitious wizards were soon convinced of the benefits of a calm, opulent life. The wizards soon became known for their scrumptious feasts rather than for the might of their staves. Even the more ambitious wizards – mostly students – didn’t concentrate their efforts on advancing through the ranks of wizardry. Instead, they devoted themselves to the fundamental research. Mustrum Ridcully admitted to not know much about that kind of research, but he considered it to be his duty as archchancellor to foster the development of his University. And since anything derived from “mind” could only be beneficial, he was willing to fund the fundamental research of Ponder Stibbons and his team of students. In the High Energy Magic building, they had only recently made their first breakthrough with the invention, although many of them choose the world discovery, of Hex.
Hex is a giant machinery of glass tubes, paternosters and passages, containing ants and other small animals. By applying a speaker and a quill, communication with the arrangement is possible. At first, the machine has been capable of the most basic mathematical tasks only but it has evolved ever since. Step by step, the students of Inadvisably Applied Magic have added more structure and more animals to it. The older members of the faculty kept looking at Hex with disdain, even when it began producing more astounding results. However, they were glad that it diverted the students’ enthusiasm away from scorpions and broken glass.
In the last month, the growth of Hex had become unmanageable, though. Even Stibbons, the leader of the project, has lost track of its functions. The machine kept adding parts to it and grew something like a personality - a very neurotic personality.
The latest addition, however, was a new discovery of the students. While experimenting with new forms of Inadvisably Applied Magic, they discovered the structure of the Thaum, the basic unit of magical energy in the Discworld. The first step for them was to split the Thaum and use the resulting outbreak of magic as an energy source for the faculty. The new discovery, however, was even more revolutionary. It was something of unconceivable potential, the students didn’t completely understand yet. In other words: It was the worst possible time for the Archchancellor to pay a visit.

Panting only a little, Mustrum Ridcully arrived at the High Energy Magic building. He had just finished his run and was still wearing his jogging suit with sewn-on stars. He considered changing back into official wardrobe but decided against it. It would just show the students that there was a world outside their building. Some of them started to look really pale after long nightly sessions with Hex. “What do they call it again?” Ridcully pondered while scratching his beard and gazing into the air. He looked at a lone crow flying over the area above the University. As it turns sharp left to fly over the High Energy Magic building, it is hit by the morphological field. Ridcully hears a last creak before the full grown crow turns back into an egg in midair and falls to the ground, cracking open before the archchancellor’s feet.
“Latently Arcane Nights” he exclaimed loudly, despite the fact that nobody else was present. “That’s what they call it. Well, might be good to tell them that it is morning.” He steps over the yolk leaking into the ground and enters the building. To his surprise he doesn’t see students sitting at the iconographic boards, and frantically pulling at levers installed in Hex. Instead, they are observing the very structure of the machine, looking at a small box in the centre of Hex. Ridcully can’t remember seeing it before and makes a quick note to ask Stibbons about it. Seeing his professor among the students, he silently walks up to him and addresses him with his booming voice.
“Good Morning Stibbons.”
“Gah! Uhm…Good Morning archchancellor” the wizard replied while in his head, the words “Not now” formed flaming red letters on the inside of his mind.
“I thought I should look how you are doing. The sun is shining and Mrs. Whitlow complained to me again that you didn’t send her laundry for days. This can’t be hygienic.”
“Yes, archchancellor. I will try to remember it tonight.”
“Good” the older wizard hums while looking at the workbenches around Hex. “How is your work? Do you have everything you need?”
“Yes archchancellor” Ponder replies while trying to think of a deity that covered unwanted visits from superordinates.
“Anything new, I should know of?”
“No, Archchancellor. We have something like a small standstill. Nothing worthy to tell you right now”
“Uhm, Professor? Why don’t you tell him of the Quands?”
Ponder twitches and turns around in an attempt to kill the speaker with his gaze. It was one of the younger students who had not been in one of Ponder’s unofficial “How-we-talk-to-the-archchancellor”-trainings. He tries to think of ways to divert Ridcully away from it but it was already too late.
“The Quands? Tell me more about it, young man. Stibbons is too humble to show his work, why don’t you go ahead?”
“Uh…the young student doesn’t know what to tell about something, none of them had entirely grasped yet. If you would look at this table, archchancellor”
Ridcully follows the student and looks at a worktable, where two students switch candles in an apparatus. It consists of a candleholder, a screen with two splits and an iconograph behind the screen. Ridcully looks at it for a moment, before something dawns on him. “Stibbons! What is she doing here?”
“Don’t you remember archchancellor? Two months ago, you signed the permission to allow women at the faculty. Of course, given the prerequisites, tests, eight daughter of an eight daughter and such.”
“Ah…” Ridcully faintly remembers signing something about this. The dean had been arguing against it vehemently, which was a good indication for it to be a good idea. “Show me the quands then.”
“Right, chancellor.” The student looks at Stibbons to seek help, but his professor doesn’t make an effort to deliver him from Ridcully. “We light the candle and have the imp in the iconograph paint what he sees.” The student covers the upper split and triggers the iconograph. Two seconds later, he retrieves a black paper with one yellow line. He repeats the process with covering the lower and exposing the upper split, retrieving another painting of a yellow line. He holds them up for Ridcully to see.
“As you can see, archchancellor, if you open one split, the imp paints one yellow line right behind the split.”
“And this is what you need the gallons of black ink for?” Ridcully looks at Stibbons puzzled. “I don’t mind members of the faculty wasting their time, but could you please do so in a way, that doesn’t leave the Bursar in lengthy negotiations with the merchants.”
Stibbons sighs and walks to the table. “Let the boy at least finish his experiment, archchancellor.” He exposes both splits and triggers the iconograph. “Now you would probably expect to see two yellow lines.” He retrieves the paper from the imp. “However, you receive this.” He holds up the painting of the imp. It contains a complex pattern of black and yellow lines of differing size. Stibbons inhales deeply and braces himself for the lengthy questions to be expected and gathers the little knowledge, they had. “Now you might ask yourself, why you see many line instead of just two. Quands are the answer to that. We named them after the Klatchian word for “if” because they occur whenever there are multiple possibilities for an event. When…uhm…when the light is able to fall through either of the two splits, the quands are emitted and they cause the light to disperse.”
Ponder exhales, proud of his explanation. It didn’t represent their exact knowledge about the quands, but it should satisfy Ridcully. The chancellor however, didn’t even seem to listen to Stibbons. He had approached the iconograph and opened it. The imp inside the iconograph suddenly faces the sight of Ridcully’s gargantuan nostrils.
“You in there?”
“Yes?” the squeaking voice of the imp replies.
“Did you paint these?” Ridcully waves the three pictures before the opening.
“Yes?”
“I see. You’re pulling a prank on my wizards, aren’t you?”
The imp opens his mouth to disagree but in a way, supernatural creatures have an eighth sense to avoid danger. “Yes, absolutely. How did you discover?”
Ridcully hums happily and closes the iconograph again. “Well so much for this little experiment, Stibbons. Don’t grieve about it, we all make our small mistakes and misconceptions.”
The professor opens his mouth to reply something but experience tells him that it is impossible to change Ridcully’s mind now. He gives the iconograph a sour look before turning back to the chancellor and seeing with terror, that his superordinate has approached Hex to examine the box in the centre.
“Now to this box here, Stibbons. What can you tell me about it? Does it have something to do with your quands as well?”
“In a way, archchancellor” Ponder Stibbons replies while cursing himself for even answering. “We found that we could produce quands if we were to produce a situation of constant uncertainty.” He looks into the questioning eyes of Ridcully and continues. “This box is connected to the central anthill. Inside there is a cat and a leather pouch filled with wow-wow sauce.”
“A leather pouch? Stibbons, if you used real wow-wow sauce, it will burn through the leather sooner or later”
“Exactly, archchancellor. The leather will not contain the wow-wow sauce, it will spill out and the cat will lick it up and die a comparatively quick death. The trick is the uncertainty. We don’t know whether the sauce has spilled out yet and whether the cat has licked it up, yet. And do you know what this means?”
“It means that you are inventing device how to kill cats? In my days, we would shoot animals and then spill wow-wow sauce on them.”
“No, archchancellor. If we are unable to determine whether it is alive or dead, it is alive and dead at the same time.” Ponder responds brightly. It takes him only one second to realize his mistake, though.
“Don’t be silly, man. It can’t be alive and dead. Surely you mean alive or dead.”
“No, chancellor. You see, we…”
“I mean, it does have a heartbeat or it doesn’t have one. It can’t have one and not have one at the same time. Even I know that.”
“Look archchancellor, we don’t know exactly what is happening. We know however, that Hex has been quickened ever since. Do you see this stream of ants, running back and forth to the box. The uncertainty whether there is already a cat carcass to be eaten or not fuels Hex with…”
“Stibbons, I have heard enough. I don’t know either what you are thinking while doing this. I think you are not getting enough fresh air. And what was the last time you actually ate with the other wizards? You should probably get out more often. I will close the building until tomorrow. This should help you getting your thoughts clear.”
Ponder Stibbons doesn’t even try to complain. They could continue their experiments later and angering the archchancellor was not a good option. He nods to his students to leave the centre and order Hex into standby mode. Together with the chancellor, they leave. Just as they have closed the door behind themselves, something happens, though. Through a rift in the air a tall figure in a black greatcoat appears. Its skeletal feet make a clinking sound on the floor, accompanied only by the buzzing voice of its scythe cutting the air into smaller particles. When it arrives before Hex, it produces an hourglass from its garter. This particular exemplar is unusual, though. Its lower half and the area around the narrow tube are tainted, making it impossible to determine whether there is a rest of sand in the upper half left. Puzzled, the figure looks at the box and the hourglass alternately.
“INTERESTING” Death says.



Signups so far: 43
Aegeus
Akaziel
Alarra
alec
Angela
Atreyu the Masked Llama
Bookman
Calamity
Captain van der Decken
Captain Fluffy
Castaras
Cobra Ikari
Dark Corax
DarkLightDragon
Deckmaster
Destro Yersul
Ditto
Ezlo
faerwain
firepup
Fredricus
Gezina
Gnome Barbarian
heretic
Hyram Graff
Indurain
Ink
inky13112
Kewl Kat
Khantalas
Krursk
Lord Fullbladder
Lord Herman
Lord Magtok
Lucky
pingcode20
Rumda
Sampi
Selrahc
Shadow
Strategos
Thes Hunter
Zar Peter


Suggestions for future rounds:

Star Trek
Highwaymen (Richard Turpin, Tom King)
Fighting Jackie Chan style (Drunken Mastery & arbritary use of improvised equipment)
Snipers
War (England-Scotland, American Civil War, Thirty Year's)
Blaster Mages
Swashbuckling
Roman Gladiators
Jungle Fight/Amazons
Horse to Horse Combat/Huns/Goths/Mongols/Romans
Vikings
007 Spies
A-Team Agents
Sin City
Gore & Splatter
Fighter jet shootout (Dogfight/WWI/WWII/Space Fighters)
Post-apocalyptic scenario
Mobsters
Victorian Heirs


Data:

:vaarsuvius:: The almighty Player Statistics thread. Check out your adversaries (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=29553)

:roy:: The Hall of Fame (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1686881#post1686881)

:durkon:: The Rules (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=26710)


Previous Winners
Round 1: (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=26710) DarkLightDragon (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/member.php?u=7519) (14 contestants)
Round 2: (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=27939) B-Man (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/member.php?u=2002) (8 capos)
Round 3: (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=28305) Bookman (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/member.php?u=14935) (12 pirates)
Round 4; (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=28632) Alarra (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/member.php?u=7141) (16 cowboys)
Round 5: (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=29474) Bookman (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/member.php?u=14935) (17 cavemen)
Round 6: (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=30904) Deckmaster (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/member.php?u=10143) (20 hackers)
Round 7: (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=31739) DarkLightDragon (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/member.php?u=7519) (27 shinobi)
Round 8: (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=32920) DarkLightDragon (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/member.php?u=7519) (28 rebels)
Round 9: (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=34975) Krursk (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/member.php?u=15809) (32 treasure hunters)
Round 10: (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=36768) Krursk (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/member.php?u=15809) (39 senators)


Last signup period starts now and ends Friday, 11 AM Eastern.
After that, my last paper is finished and I can start having three contests simultaneously again :smallsmile:

[Fredricus]

I like it!

[Rumda]

nice back story as usual

[faerwain]

The Professor for Unexplained Faerwinisms is in.

(and really looking forward to it)

[evnafets]

evnafets shoots Faerwain.

I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!

[Castaras]

* Subscribes to thread *

Right. Lets get ready for this...

* Aims at random person *

[Strategos]

Ooh, I'll join in.

[heretic]

Haha! Subscribed to correct thread this time...I'll have my revenge. *aims at crowd*

[Akaziel]

Sweet... I can't wait!

[Akaziel]

Sorry for the double-post. but I forgot to subscribe.

*subscribes*

There we go.

[Shadow]

*Pokes Akaziel*

pssst! You get a subscription by posting the first time.

Like I just did!

[Lucky]

But... but... Kantur's not playing...

I must grudgingly sign up.

[HyramGraff]

Sorry for the double-post. but I forgot to subscribe.

*subscribes*

There we go.

You know, up at the top, right above the first post on a page is a thing called thread tools. Clock on that and you should see three options come up. The bottom one of these is subscribe to this thread. TaDa, You'll be subscribed and you won't even have to leave a post. :smallbiggrin:

[Lord Herman]

^^, where is Kantur anyway? I haven't seen him in a while.

[Ezlo]

I'll play! And this time, Meatloaf Day shall win! WIN I tell you!

[Shadow]

Want me to gather up the posse and tell you what we think of Meatloaf Day again?


I didn't think so!

[Thes Hunter]

I'm SO in.

And can I be added to the auto signup thingy? :smallbiggrin:


I sooo love your games.

[InaVegt]

I'll so be shooting at Shadow this time.

[Alarra]

Is there an autosignup for ready aim fire? Cause I think there should be.

[Shadow]

I'll so be shooting at Shadow this time.

I know someone will.
I have yet to be fired at a single time!

[Lord Herman]

An auto signup would indeed be a good idea.

[inky13112]

I didn't sign up or anything and somehow I wound up on the list... Not that I'm complaining of course!! :smallbiggrin:

Huh subscribing, I think I might consider that, but then I wouldn't get to do my daily trawl through the SMBG forum for the treads I actually post in. :smallyuk::smalltongue::smallsmile::smallfrown:

[Lucky]

^^, where is Kantur anyway? I haven't seen him in a while.I don't know, I just shoot him, I don't talk to him. :smalltongue:

[Indurain]

is it too late to signup?

[Silkenfist]

I will officially install auto-signups from now on. With the starting post, I'll try to have a wording for them ready.

Some time left until then, though. Anyone want to sign up in the meantime?

[DarkCorax]

Yay, Terry Pratchet and The UU! :smalltongue: is the 2nd paragraph from a book, I think i reconize it from somewhere...

[Silkenfist]

Corax: That would seriously surprise me. Other than the characters and the world, I didn't steal from Pratchett.

[Rashnuk]

Hi :smallsmile: I'd like to join , am i too late?

[Silkenfist]

Note to self: Really really learn when to stop...

The sunlight fades over the Tower of Arts as the evening breaks in Ankh-Morpork. In the city, the first candles and lanterns are lit while the University’s servants prepare the octarine lanterns for the night. Still the only room to be brightly lit is the great refectory where the cooks – by far the largest and most skilled group of attendants at the Unseen University – have prepared the nightly banquet for the wizards. After Ridcully had closed the High Energy Magic building, they had received order to create an especially rich and festive meal. And while the students had retreated to their quarters grumbling to join the older members of the faculty in their sleep, Ridcully had notes delivered to make attendance at the banquet mandatory. For the older wizards, this was nothing to dictate, since even one missed meal could seriously threaten their waistline. For the younger wizards like Stibbons and some of the students however, it was not unusual to create their own schedules. Even after years of scholarship, for some of them would today be the first time to see the refectory longer than the few minutes required to whip up an “Arcane Saddlebags”-spell to carry dinner into the laboratories.
As the sun disappears beyond the rim of the Discworld, the city and the University grow dark and the octarine lanterns in the refectory are ignited to begin the festive dinner. The cooks had done their best work and added another three onto the normal six courses of a dinner at the University. This and the fact that for the first time all of the faculty was present at a dinner, ensures that the refectory is filled to the brim. In midst of this plentifulness and crowdedness, none of the wizards notices that the archchancellor himself is missing at the banquet he had ordered.
While the other members of the University are either dining or doing their chores in the main building, only two men can be found outside. Each on their own way, they meet between the garden and the building for High Energy Magic.
“Good evening chancellor”
“Ah, good evening Modo. Say…would you please not tell someone in the refectory that I am outside”
“Who should I tell what?” the dwarven gardener replies. He never was the quickest of mind, especially with thoughts not concerned with gardening.
“Uh… nothing. Just keep going.”
Modo nods and continues his way to the octadimensional rose bushes. He ponders for a heartbeat what the chancellor could be doing outside at this time. Then he dismisses that thought in favour of speculation about adding vinegar to the compost. Behind him, Ridcully produces the key to the building, steps over a patch of dried yolk in front of the entrance and enters. He locks the doors behind himself and after some consideration produces a timed spell of warding to seal the door additionally. He ignites two ordinary petroleum lanterns and installs them in the hooks. He takes one of the chairs and sits down looking at Hex, focussing at the box in the centre of it. Countless ants run back and forth through the tube connected to it. The machine hums with energy. Ridcully approaches the speaker cone and activates the quill. He tries to remember the few instructions Ponder Stibbons had given him on how to talk with the machine.
“Hex. Boot Process”
+++ Good morning user. Please state your verification +++
“Archchancellor”
+++ Please wait +++ Good morning Archchancellor Ridcully +++
“Hex. What is in the box inside you”
+++ Illegal self-reference. Path not found. System reboot +++
“Hex. List your contents.”
+++ Central Anthill. Badger. Mouse. Uncertainty nucleus +++
“That might be it. Check uncertainty nucleus”
+++ Checking uncertainty nucleus. Contents…illegal self-reference. Path not found. System reboot +++
“Interesting” Ridcully sits in front of the apparatus and looks at it, scratching his beard. Loudly he speaks: “You can come out. I know that you are here.”
“I AM SORRY. I DID NOT WANT TO DISTURB YOU.” Death steps down from his white horse and walks towards the chancellor. A faint clink can be heard as a hourglass is pressed against his bony chest as he walks.
“You are here for business.” Ridcully doesn’t even turn around to see Death nod. Magic-users of the Discworld always had the questionable gift to foresee the time of their own demise to a point and communicate with Death even before their time had come.
“YOU STILL HAVE LITTLE TIME LEFT. ARE YOU GOING TO TRY ANYTHING?”
“Try anything?” the old wizard seems genuinely surprised.
“SOME OF YOUR PREDECESSORS HAVE BEEN TRYING TO AVOID THIS MOMENT. YOU AREN’T GOING TO STEP INSIDE A PENTACLE”
“Didn’t plan to.”
“PERFORM ANY RITUALS”
“No. Would it even work?”
“THAT WOULD DEPEND ON THE RITUAL AND THE WAY HOW YOU PERFORM IT” Death remembers the wizard who performed the AshkEnte ritual of Death Summoning backwards and was terminally transferred to Death’s domain as a result.
“YOU ARE NOT GOING TO TRY AND TRANSFER YOUR ESSENCE INTO AN OBJECT?”
“Wouldn’t do so ever. Unless I could still go hunting, it wouldn’t qualify as life”
Ridcully keeps looking at Hex with fascination. Behind him, he believes to hear someone exhale in relief. Or try to appear like exhaling in relief.
“VERY WELL. IT MAKES THINGS FOR ME SO MUCH EASIER.” Death produces a hourglass from his coat. In its top “Mustrum ‘The Brown’ Ridcully” is engraved. Only a few grains of sand are left in the top half and they keep trickling down. “IF THERE IS ANYTHING YOU NEED TO DO, NOW IS PROBABLY THE TIME”.
“I don’t think so. My will including naming of my successor is here and can be found later.” Ridcully casts a last look at Hex and turns around to Death. “I will make one effort, though. Even if I risk breaking some of the Quands, Stibbons seems so eager to find.”
“SOME OF THE WHAT?”
“What do I have to lose.” Ridcully catches a last glimpse at the last grain of sand sliding down the glass, inhales deeply and speaks. “I challenge you to a contest”
Immediately, a blue shimmer surrounds the hourglass and the grain is frozen in place. Death turns around and tilts his head in a vain attempt to look disgruntled. Both his physiological limitations and his lack of emotions make it hard for him to display certain human emotions.
“A CONTEST?”
“I challenge you to a riddle. If you can not answer it, I win my life.”
“THAT IS YOUR RIGHT. BUT WHAT IS THIS RIDDLE YOU PLACE YOUR HOPES IN?”
“It is easy.” Ridcully tries to find something in Death’s eyeholes to look at. “In between the tubes over there, there is a box. In the box, there is a cat. Is it dead or alive?”
“THIS IS YOUR RIDDLE?”
“This is it.”
“IT SHOULD NOT TAKE LONG TO ANSWER”. Death snips his skeletal fingers and a hourglass appears in his hand. But as he looks at the small wooden hourglass with “Schringer” engraved on top, he hesitates. “THIS IS WHAT YOU MEANT? I SEE.” Death puts away the hourglass with the tinted halves. “THERE ARE OTHER WAYS FOR ME TO SEE, STILL” He snips his fingers again and a small leather book appears in his hands. “THIS CONTAINS THE LIFE OF THE CAT. NOW IF IT IS STILL BEING WRITTEN, IT IS ALIVE. IF IT IS NOT WRITTEN ANYMORE, THE CAT IS DEAD.” Death opens the book and flips the pages over until he gets to the last one. Ridcully, still feeling pleasantly corporeal, inches nearer to death to peek over his shoulder. He looks at the page, Death had opened.
“THIS IS…UNEXPECTED” Death exclaims. Before both of their eyes, they see a quill writing fine lines into the book. But the lines disappear the moment they are written. Death flips a few pages back to see the latest visible entry only to find. ‘Curious. Lift off the ground by smelly human. Curious. Claw at the humans nose. Curious. Hear human scream. Curious. Being put down. Soft Ground. Curious. Dark’
“That’s from when they put him in there, I guess” Ridcully’s face grows wider as a smile forms on his lips. “And now?”
“IT SEEMS THAT I AM UNABLE TO SOLVE THE RIDDLE.” Death holds the two hourglasses in one hand and the scythe in his other one. “YOU WILL REMAIN ALIVE UNTIL I AM ABLE TO DO SO.”
“Hey, don’t be sad. You win a few, you lose few.” the aged wizard replies jovially.
“I AM DEATH. I CAN NEITHER PERCEIVE NOR EXPRESS EMOTION I CAN NOT BE SAD.” The skeletal figure turns to its horse again, leaving Ridcully behind. “It worked. It actually worked.” He approaches Hex and calls into the speaker. “You did it, Hex. You fooled Death. Good work, old boy.” Filled with confidence, Ridcully turns around to look at Death. He extends a hand and gives Hex a strong empathic clap against the speaker. The resulting sound immediately makes him regret it. The resonance travels through the entire structure and shifts tubes and vessels. And worst of all, the main tube shifts into the uncertainty unit, triggering all ants to enter it at once. Ridcully sees the octarine magic field around the machine flicker and he looks vainly for a thick wall to cover behind. One second later, a thaumaturgical explosion ruptures through the laboratory.
Ridcully blinks and gets up staggering. To his surprise he neither feels pain nor fatigue after the rupture. He definitely had expected worse. Then he hears the voice from behind.
“MUSTRUM RIDCULLY”
“You have solved it?”
“THE CAT IS DEAD. IF YOU WOULD LOOK DOWN”
Ridcully reluctantly looks down. For one moment he is glad not to have a corporeal stomach anymore.
“Which one of the piles is me and which one the cat?”
“THIS WAS NOT YOUR RIDDLE. THE SMALLER ONE I WOULD GUESS”
“Probably. And what happens next?”

Half a hour later, the other wizards had arrived at the High Energy Magic building. The explosion had been audible throughout the entire refectory. Still it had taken them a lot of time to remove the wards placed on the door. The structure of the building had remained intact, since it was build to withstand exactly this kind of situations. Finally the wizards manage to bypass the rituals, though, and they carefully look into the room. To their relief, they don’t see a horde of monsters from the dungeon dimension and even most of the structure inside had remained intact. Only Hex has dramatically changed. The older students and Ponder immediately realize the rearrangement of the tubes while the octarine flicker around it is obvious even to the untrained eye. The machine brims with Energy and makes even the braver wizards refrain from approaching as they witness a discharge before their eyes. An octarine bolt of magic zaps towards them and hits the ground beneath their feet. Awestruck, the wizards look below as out of nowhere a complete egg appears, turns into a grown crow and flies off croaking.
“What happened? Stibbons, is this your work?”
“I can guarantee that this is not one of our projects. Has anyone measured the magical energy with a thaumameter?”
“I was going to, but mine just turned into a badger and bit me”
“This qualifies as pretty high level, I guess. And…” Ponder is interrupted by another discharge heading towards them and hitting a group of wizards. The shred of clothing being ripped to fit new forms alarms the wizards. “Everyone use the walls as cover. They might hold.”
The wizards cover behind the thick stone and peek inside while the apparatus. keeps humming. From time to time, the sound of thaumaturgical discharges can be heard, most of them hitting the structure harmlessly, some of them escaping through the door and animating random parts of the vegetation. In the cover behind the walls, the wizards. confer about what happened.
“Stibbons, this is your machine and therefore you might be held responsible for all of this. But we will not do that, it is the archchancellor’s work to do so.”
“Thanks dean” Ponder replies grimly. But speaking of that. “Where IS he?”
An uncomfortable silence spreads among the wizards as the obvious facts slowly form a large picture.
“There where piles inside.”
“More like puddles.”
“They seemed pretty organic to me”
“It sure is a bad way to go. Couldn’t he have a dignified demise like his predecessors?”
“What, you mean, being smothered with their own pillow in their sleep?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“Oh please, at least have some hope.” One of the younger wizards adds. “It doesn’t need to be the chancellor. Hex is build with a lot of safety devices. Anyone to trigger an event like this would need to have an enormous disregard for them to the point of missing self-preservation.”
Ponder Stibbons looks at his student sourly. “Yes, that is true. I guess we can conclude that it was the chancellor to trigger this. The next question is, why Hex is acting like that.”
“Didn’t you say something about using Quands to expand the energy potential of the ants?”
“We did that” Ponder replies while peeking inside. “But the activity continues. It would not do that without a source of uncertainty. And our current source is the puddle next to the chancellor if I am not mistaken.”
“Well, there is one possibility” one of Ponder’s students adds again. “If the chancellor was using Hex when this happened, he would probably have identified himself has ‘archchancellor’. But if the chancellor is dead, Hex needs a new speech pattern to recognize as chancellor.”
“But he doesn’t have one registered yet. For what Hex knows we all could be…” Stibbons is interrupted by another discharge resonating through the structure. “now I know what you mean.”
“Exactly. This is the source of uncertainty. And with several thousand potential options, we have an abundance of Quands produced”
“…which leads to the overproduction of magical energy.” Ponder finishes the sentence. He stands up and turns to the other wizards. “If we let Hex continue in this state, it will accumulate energy until it rips apart the entire faculty. And maybe Ankh-Morpork with it. We need to choose a new archchancellor quickly. I say we let the older wizards gather and let them choose one from among their ranks to take the position, then set that person up as new chancellor to Hex.” Ponder looks at the aged seventh-level-wizards, who have formed a small group in the crowd before the building. He expects them to start a fight about who would be allowed to take the position but to his surprise his colleagues seem rather avoidant.
“You know…in my age, I shouldn’t do that.”
“I have enough to do with my current office.”
“My arthritis is killing me. Can’t do that.”
“I don’t feel vital enough for that kind of thing anymore.”
Ponder looks at them with surprise, then he realizes: With Ridcully’s death, the spirit of advance through homicide could very well live up again. They had all seen it and they are not willing to become prey to the younger and fitter wizards. The young ones however…they haven’t seen it. They don’t see the hazards. And they have ambitions. I should probably warn them. Ponder gets nearer to speak to the others about it but he makes the fatal error of crossing the opened door. A discharge from inside hit him in the side and with a stifled scream he slumps to the ground. Between the wizards, a fluorescent puddle marks the place where the young professor had stood.
After a few seconds of awkward silence, it is the dean of pentacles, one of the aged wizards, to speak up: “Well, you heard him. We need a new chancellor, and it uh… should very well be someone young. And dynamic. Why don’t you men…and uh… women choose one and tell it to Hex. We…we will retreat to our offices and don’t bother you with it.” In a hurry, the older wizards follow the dean, leaving the group of young wizards behind, standing around the puddle of their former professor. While the machine inside dictates to hurry, ambitions start to grow in the group. But for now they decide to retreat to the dining hall to determine the new chancellor there.

A few hundred miles hubwards and upwards, 44 gods and goddesses have gathered around a table with a blueprint of the University. Each of them carries a small tin figure with a pointed hat.
“And now?” Offler snarls
“And now we fight.” Fate smirks. Until there is only one left.


Signups so far: 44
Aegeus
Akaziel
Alarra
alec
Angela
Atreyu the Masked Llama
Bookman
Calamity
Captain van der Decken
Captain Fluffy
Castaras
Cobra Ikari
Dark Corax
DarkLightDragon
Deckmaster
Destro Yersul
Ditto
Ezlo
faerwain
firepup
Fredricus
Gezina
Gnome Barbarian
heretic
Hyram Graff
Indurain
Ink
inky13112
Kewl Kat
Khantalas
Krursk
Lord Fullbladder
Lord Herman
Lord Magtok
Lucky
pingcode20
Rashnuk
Rumda
Sampi
Selrahc
Shadow
Strategos
Thes Hunter
Zar Peter


Data:

:vaarsuvius:: The almighty Player Statistics thread. Check out your adversaries (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=29553)

:roy:: The Hall of Fame (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1686881#post1686881)

:durkon:: The Rules (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=26710)


Please send your actions until Monday, 1 PM Eastern

[Silkenfist]

One last thing: Subscription is available from now on.


1) You can autosignup to Ready, Aim, Fire! If you wish to do so, send me a message or reply to the current game thread.

2) If you are on autosignup, you will be registered automatically for each new game of Ready, Aim, Fire!

3) Players on the autosignup list will receive a reminder message if they time out the first round of a Ready, Aim, Fire! game.

4) Players are removed from the autosignup list either
a) by direct request
b) if they lose a round by timing out in two actions in a row.
c) Rejoining the list at a later time is possible in both cases.


Autosignups so far: 5

Alarra
Captain van der Decken
KewlKat
Thes Hunter
Zar Peter

[Lord Fullbladder, Master of Goblins]

Ummm..... Pardon the intrusion, but... does that mean it's started? Should we be sending in our actions?

Also, as a little side thing, I would like to be placed on the Auto-sign-up list. I missed the last RAF by mere minutes, apparently.

[Silkenfist]

Fullbladder: It is started and I'll take your actions.

[pingcode20]

Put me down on the auto-signup list.

Pingcode picks up his little tin figure, complete with pointed hat, and ponders a decision. He shifts it a few squares and rolls a die.

"It was Professor Mustard, in the Lab, with the Wow-Wow sauce."

[Destro_Yersul]

Put me on the auto-signup list.

[Lord Herman]

I'd like to be put on the auto-signup list as well.

[Fredricus]

I'd like to be on the auto-sign list.

[Castaras]

Auto sign list please! :smallsmile:

[Lord Magtok]

Put me on the auto-sign up list, too.

[DarkLightDragon]

I'd like to be on auto-signup!

[firepup]

Auto sign me!

[Calamity]

Put me on auto-sign toooooooo!

[Shadow]

Auto sign me as well.
I love reading these games!

And now to kill Calamity...
I mean shoot the air...
I mean... Damn it!

[Calamity]

Auto sign me as well.
I love reading these games!

And now to kill Calamity...
I mean shoot the air...
I mean... Damn it!

What I ever do to you?

[Khantalas]

We have autosign?

*Autosigns*

[Shadow]

What I ever do to you?
You surrounded me with your posts.
That means death by fireballing in my book.

[Akaziel]

Auto-sign me as well please.

[Cobra_Ikari]

*signs the autosign list*

[Calamity]

You surrounded me with your posts.
That means death by fireballing in my book.

But.. but.. you said it before I did that.....!

[Aegeus]

Autosign me for teh win!

[firepup]

But.. but.. you said it before I did that.....! he knew you were going to do it!

[Ezlo]

You all will rue the day you rejected Meatloaf Day! I shall rule you all!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

[DarkCorax]

Can I be added to the autosign up list.

[Ink]

I'd like to autosign too please.

[inky13112]

You all will rue the day you rejected Meatloaf Day! I shall rule you all!!! MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

Nooo Forgive me Ezlo, I was a fool to disagree with Meatloaf day, please spare me!!! :smalltongue:

[Lord Herman]

Please don't shoot me. I'm not shooting myself this round. Honest.

[Angela]

Autosign me too please...

[Shadow]

But.. but.. you said it before I did that.....!
I'm psycho! I mean psychic! I mean psycho! I mean.... Damn it!

[Silkenfist]

About 5 hours left and I still need 4 entries. Honestly, I had expected to miss more.

[Rashnuk]

You can autosign me aswell , please :)

[Silkenfist]

Autosignups: 24

Aegeus
Akaziel
Alarra
Angela
Calamity
Captain van der Decken
Castaras
Cobra Ikari
Dark Corax
Destro Yersul
DLD
firepup
Fredricus
Ink
KewlKat
Khantalas
Lord Fullbladder
Lord Herman
Lord Magtok
pingcode20
Rashnuk
Shadow
Thes Hunter
Zar Peter


I have 24 autosignups...Whoa. That beats most of the old rounds. It will also reduce the signup process in the future somewhat.

Also: You have exactly one hour (with grace period) to get in your action, but I need only 3. And what I've got looks very evil.

[firepup]

Whooo! Evil... wait... EVIL like evil villain intervention league? or Evil like Chaotic evil? And you have my action right?

[Silkenfist]

A fickle octarine light shimmers throughout the entire area of the University. Driven by the uncertainty of the new archchancellor, Hex has kept producing magical energy in abundance, which kept discharging into the surrounding walls and vegetation ever since. After realising the situation, the group of wizards had basically split into two factions: The larger group of wizards who were too inexperienced (or too experienced) to have ambitions towards the title of chancellor; and one small group of 44 mages with the intent of not only surviving the evening, but surviving it in the office. While the older wizards and students decided to retreat to their respective chambers and lock the doors behind them, the ambitious mages decided to occupy the dining hall and the chambers of experimental magic to carry out the process of violent inauguration.
However, there are some wizards who chose neither safety nor combat. A group of three young wizards have witnessed the developments of Hex without focus on the danger. They are Deckmaster, faerwain and Ditto and they were the top three ranking players in the Inadvisably Applied Magic Faculty’s ranking in “Dimension of Battlefare”, a module for Hex that the – former – archchancellor only knew as method to test Hex’ data capabilities. Technically this was true, but the lengthy sessions in the night which were mostly accompanied by screams like “Meet cold steel, evildoer” and “For the pack” indicated that its value was mostly intrinsic. This intrinsic value also seems to be the reason for the triple’s actions. From the faculty’s cellar, they have recovered thick protective suits, originally made for the kitchen when they were handling Wow-Wow-sauce. The wizards don the suits and run towards the building of High Energy Magic, screaming obscure battle cries.
Another group of wizards had also decided not to attack their adversaries outright but their idea was more productive. Since there have already been two dead wizards tonight and more deaths were likely to follow, consulting Death himself looked light a good idea. They have prepared the lobby of the dining hall for their purpose. With eight being the number of magical property, there were requirements for a lot of people: Eight wizards were required to perform the spell, each one standing at one end of an octacle drawn onto the ground and holding one candle. Still there are other spell reagents as well.
“Squeak.”
“Oh, come on Phil.”
“Squeak!”
“Well, maybe it is not fair but the spell requires the blood of a mouse. And you are a mouse”
“Squeak?”
“Oh, actually I didn’t read that far. Let me see…” The mage “Fluffy” takes another glance at the book he is holding. He pauses and picks up his familiar. He lifts it up before his eye, examining it.
“I am not sure…Phil, do you think, you hold 4 cubic centimetres of blood?”
“Squeak!”
“Really? Oh…” Fluffy turns around to the seven other wizards. “Looks like we can’t have a ritual with flashy effects then. We’ll do the variant with the egg instead.” Fluffy ignores the angry look his familiar tries to cast at him and takes his position in the octacle. Together with his fellow mages Calamity, Khantalas, KewlKat, Rumda, Selrahc, Lord Magtok and Ink he forms an octacle. Gripping the candles tight, the group chants the invocation of Death in the ritual of AshkEnte.
Among the older wizards, the ritual of AshkEnte hasn’t been popular. Most of them claimed, it was decency that prevented them to summon and control an entity like Death that certainly had better things to do. The younger wizards however, quickly realised that the reluctance to perform the ritual grew with the age of the respective wizards and it sounded only reasonable that the aged mages didn’t want to be reminded of Death too often…or the other way around. The young wizards in the lobby have not these concerns, though. With each line of the chant, the air thickens until – with the last tone of the chant – a tone like a plop sounds in the midst of them and a large figure appears between them. It holds a giant scythe in its hands and its skeletal face is masked in shadows inside its greatcoat. The threatening appearance is reduced somewhat by the yellow iconic duck in its left hand at the cloth on top of the greatcoat. Into the black transparent cloth, someone had stitched images of small animals although it is evident that the embroider had not seen those animals for quite a long time. The animals shift to the side as Death straightens himself and looks at the wizards around the octacle.
“GOOD EVENING…WIZARDS.” says as he fails to see an obvious leader of the ritual.
“Wha…” Khantalas stares at Death. “Why are you wearing this cap?”
Death turns around and hesitates for one moment, unsure what to answer. “YOU SUMMONED ME WITH AN ANCIENT RITUAL TO ASK ME WHY I WEAR WHAT I WEAR WHEN I APPEAR AT THE SUMMONING?”
“Uh…”
“TO UNDERSTAND HUMANS BETTER. SOMEONE WISE ONCE SAID TO UNDERSTAND PEOPLE, YOU NEEDED TO FOLLOW THEIR LITTLE RITUALS.”
“But did he mean that?”
“I DID NOT ASK HIM WHEN I CAME FOR HIM” For one moment a cold shiver runs down the back of the present wizards. “BUT I UNDERSTAND THIS RITUAL SOMEWHAT. EVERY TIME I PERFORM IT, I AM SUMMONED SOMEWHERE. AN UNEXPECTED RESULT CONCERNING THESE REAGENTS.” Death takes the duck and the cap in one skeletal hand and looks at them.
“Excuse me if I interrupt you two” Selrahc’s exclaims impatiently. “We have matters of life and death at our hands and we need information about them quickly. You came for Archchancellor Ridcully today?”
“THIS IS CORRECT.”
“And Professor Stibbons?”
“AS WELL, YES.”
“And are you going to come for more of us today?”
“I CAN NOT ANSWER THAT. THE SANDS OF TIME DO NOT WORK THAT WAY. IF YOUR DEMISE IS ABOUT TO HAPPEN, I KNOW AND I WILL COME. I SEE THE SANDS OF TIME BUT THEY DO NOT ALLOW ME TO KNOW THE MOMENT OF YOUR DEATH UNTIL IT IS TIME FOR ME TO APPEAR. ONE GRAIN OF SAND CAN MEAN ONE HEARTBEAT OR IT COULD MEAN MINUTES.”
“So you can’t tell us anything about what happens in the next hours?”
“I CAN TELL YOU. FOR EACH ONE OF YOU I WILL TELL YOU PERSONALLY. ONCE.”
“That was not the answer, we have hoped for.”
“HOPE IS NOTHING I CAN PROVIDE. I AM CERTAINTY.” Death pauses for one moment, then snips his fingers. A hourglass appears in its hands, the last grains of sand trickling down.
“AND THIS IS CERTAINTY, TOO. WILL YOU EXCUSE ME FOR ONE MOMENT?”

Inside the High Energy Magic Building, the three wizards have already grabbed the leverboards and powered up the iconographs connected to Hex. Streams of ants and jets of octarine light pulse through the tubes of Hex as the three immerse themselves in “Dimensions of Battlefare”. Viciously they pull at the levers while discharges pulse around them. In the heat of operation, their movements and shouts become more and more hectic. But while faerwain and Deckmaster seem to enjoy themselves, Ditto’s screams seem much more painful and panicked. He twitches, falls and tears at the suit. Crying in torment, he staggers and finally collapses on the floor. As his last twitches fade, four scorpions crawl out of an opening in the suit and out of the building.
Outside the building, ducked in the cover of the bushes, Rashnuk and Zar Peter do a high five, which turns awkward due to the great height difference of the human and the dwarf. They are satisfied, though. The screams from inside indicated that the legends of scorpions as means of assassination are certainly valid. Rashnuk decides to look out for another possible target while Zar Peter volunteers to pick up the scorpions to use them on their next victim. He approaches the centre of High Energy Magic to gather their “little helpers”. Not finding them immediately, he steps nearer to look for them, watching his feet to not accidentally step onto the deadly creatures. Unfortunately, this precaution prevents him from spotting the wizards in the bushes on the other side of the way. Just as Zar Peter sees the stone ground beneath his feet, he notices a cackle behind him. He tries to turn around but fails as his feet are firmly stuck to the stone beneath. He loses his balance and falls forward, causing his hands to become attached to the ground as well. He curses and vainly tries to rip himself loose while trying to distinguish the voices behind from the noise of Hex only a few yards away.
“What did I tell you about Stone to Syrup?”
“A fun spell.” The gnomish barbarian wizard replies and smirks. “What do you think will happen? Transformation or puddle?”
“Puddle, I think.” Shadow replies. “Although it would be fun to see him transform a few times first.” He leans back against a tree and observes the helpless dwarf. Together with Gnome Barbarian they observe Hex’s discharges until one bolt finally hits Zar Peter.
“Puddle. I won.”
“Bah, next time I choose.” the Barbarian grumbles. Together with Shadow they turn around and head back to the dining hall to create new plans.

With another plop, Death resurfaces in the octacle. He sees that the group in the lobby has grown as more wizards had joined the ritual with hope to receive answers. Rumda is the first to speak. The candle trembles as he asks: “One of us?”
“TWO OF YOUR COLLEAGUES. OUTSIDE.” Death hears heavier breathing around him. “IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE I CAN…”
Suddenly, death is interrupted by noise from outside. Through the windows of the lobby, screams from outside reach the lobby. The wizards follow the sounds and they see a lone figure standing outside the hall. Before the grim octarine twilight, one wizard stands still, raising a sign above his head and chanting paroles. The wizards closest to the window read aloud. “Give us Meatloaf Day or give us death.” They turn to each other.
“Did the archchancellor implement one of his ‘balanced diet programs’ again?”
“Maybe…who is it out there?”
“Looked like Ezlo…he won’t do anything stupid, will he?”
“Well…Calamity suddenly smiles. We could check that. Can you show us his hourglass?”
“IT WON’T TELL YOU MUCH BUT IF YOU WANT TO…” Death snips his fingers and a hourglass appears in his outstretched hand. The other wizards see him look at it for some time. “THAT IS…ODD” He turns around and show the hourglass to the other wizards. Both of the halves are tinted making it impossible to determine the amount of sand left.
“What does it mean?”
“IT MEANS I AM NOT ABLE TO TELL. NOT EVEN REMOTELY” Death and the wizards in the octacle look at the hourglass in amazement. Behind them, they hear screams from the wizards standing at the window, but neither of them turns around. As the voices behind them grow louder, the hourglass changes before their eyes. The glass becomes clear only to reveal the last grains of sand falling through it.
“YOU KNOW WHAT THIS MEANS?” Death grabs the hourglass with ‘Ezlo’ engraved and marches through the wall outside. The other wizards follow up to the window where they see the reason for the screams. The protesting Ezlo had doused himself in scrumple and lit on fire. A screaming burning figure stands outside still lifting up the smouldering remains of the sign. But as Ezlo stops screaming for a moment and inhales, it causes the lungs themselves to catch flame, forcing him to the ground immediately…
A few seconds later, Death reappears in the lobby. He is met by the curious gaze of the present wizards.
“Do our glasses look like that as well?”
“LET ME SEE…YES, YOUR HOURGLASS APPEARS TO BE MASKED AS WELL. ANYONE ELSE EAGER TO KNOW?”
“Most of the wizards deny and back away from death. Even the group who had summoned him earlier, picks up the reagents again and leaves in disappointment. Only four wizards remain. Gezina, Lucky and the two noblewizards Fullbladder and Herman stay and request to see their respective hourglasses. Before their eyes, Death places four tinted hourglasses on the table with the names of the mages faintly engraved in the top. Lucky picks them up and hands each of his colleagues their respective hourglass. Then he takes a quick glance at Death before running away with his hourglass tightly clutched against his body. The other wizards look at Death questioningly.
“Aren’t you going to go after him?”
“I DON’T NEED TO. THERE IS NO WAY FOR HIM TO GAIN MORE TIME. BESIDES, I CAN ALWAYS MAKE IT REAPPEAR IN MY HANDS.” As Death speaks, he notices that the other wizards have started to examine their own hourglasses, albeit not with much care. They twist and turn them to try and peek inside how many sand there is left. It is Gezina who has the worst idea, though: “Let’s try this one: Maybe we can cut a small hole through the glass and peek through that. If we carefully knock them against an edge, it might be possible.”
Herman and Fullbladder nod and follow Gezina to a table, leaving Death behind. “I SHOULD TALK YOU OUT OF THIS. THEY DO NOT WORK THAT WAY. THEY…”
The sound of breaking glass sounds threefold through the refectory. The three wizards had smashed their hourglasses which produced not one small hole but shattered the entire hourglasses, pouring all of the sand out immediately.
“IF YOU FIND CONSOLATION IN IT…NOW YOU HAVE CERTAINTY” Death remarks to the essences of the deceased Gezina and Fullbladder. He shakes his head and turns to Lord Herman who has only shards in his hands just as well. However, he is still standing and looks puzzled at the shards.
“Shouldn’t I be dead?”
“CERTAINLY NOT. DON’T WORRY ABOUT THIS. YOU ARE STILL ALIVE. BUT IF YOU WOULD EXCUSE ME…”
Death leaves behind the surprised Herman to appear in a room three floors upstairs. He sees the body of a small wizard in green robes dead on the floor, a hammer in his right hand. Before him and barely missed by his body falling to the ground, a hourglass with tinted windows lies on the floor. Engraved in its top, Death reads the words ‘Lord Herman’. He looks at the ghostly figure of Lucky standing before him with a look of guilt and fright in its eyes. He shakes his head and raises his scythe…

[Silkenfist]

One floor below, one small mind is filled with anger as it is shaken back and forth. It had been a bad night for it. It had been lifted out of its comfy home, put in a dark and smelly place, rubbed against an even smellier human, thrown and shaken around a lot, barely managed to escape the dark smelly place before becoming crushed to death. And just after escaping, it became stuck to the ground. And then…this strange thing hit it and made it remember and suddenly the small mind of the little scorpion had the words to describe it. Still it was frozen to the ground helplessly with the other scorpions and had to endure being picked up by humans once again. Again it was put in a smelly place and shaken a lot. But this time, the scorpion had changed. The high-pitched incomprehensible sounds, the humans made, suddenly made sense to it. While it is shaken around, the scorpion takes consolation in the fact that it at least knows what is happening around. It hears something creaking and humans to speak again.
“Angela. Sampi. What a pleasant surprise. Come in.”
“Hello Krursk.”
“I am just finished, writing up my speech. This farce needs to find an end. We must choose the new chancellor democratically. It is the only way to find a conclusion.”
“Yes…exactly what we were thinking. But if we voted for it, the victor would be evident already, right?”
“Maybe, but…”
“Krursk, don’t be modest. We also think you should be the next one to lead the faculty. That’s why we already acquired the insignia.”
“You…brought the chancellor’s robe.”
“And the official hat. There might not be enough time for a vote. We thought, you might create a turnaround out there by just appearing that way.”
“I don’t know. It is not legit…”
“At least try it on. It should give you some kind of authority.”
“If it makes you happy…”
The scorpion tries to keep eavesdropping, but suddenly it feels something familiar. The pressure of a stinking wet human body pressing against it. This time the scorpion and his nonsentient colleagues were already angered and it took that little to provoke them. The scream of Krursk as four poisonous tales embed themselves in his side is equally satisfying to the scorpions as it is to the assailants.

Other wizards are creating schemes of assassination as well. In the kitchen of the university, the cooks and attendants have fled in terror as they saw Castaras appear in the doorway. She had already made a name of herself in terms of violent cuisine and her smile was all it took the servants to realise they should be somewhere else, far away. With the kitchen under her control, Castaras quickly starts a simple dough before enhancing it with a variety of spells, arcane reagents and even more horrible things. On the worktop before her, a squirming mass of dough wriggles independently from her hands pounding it while changing colour among the rainbow spectrum. Deep slurping noises sound through the entire kitchen, repelling everyone with an intact sense of taste left. Only Akaziel is not driven away. He had been Castaras earlier waiting only for a suitable moment to attack. The sound of the dough rising and collapsing covers his approach while his victim is too busy with her preparations to notice anything behind her. She adds another two secret ingredients and takes a step back to admire her work. Before her, a plate of dough, one foot in diameter is lying on the worktop. Its surface is squirming and blistering while occasionally lashing out to her and changing its colours in concentric circles towards her. She starts to think of how to get it in the oven, when she is suddenly grappled from behind. Before Castaras can defend herself, Akaziel has grabbed her, forced her forward and thrust her head into the mass before her. Castaras’ screams are muffled as her own creation starts to suck her in. Behind her Akaziel looks in amazement as Castaras is completely devoured by the squirming plate of dough. He takes a step back and watches as the pie crust grows in size and lifts itself up vertically. In the bubbling and blistering mass, the outlines of a face appear. An outline of a mouth opens and a hissed voice sounds through the kitchen: “FAATTHHHHERRRR. EMBRRACCE MEEEE!!!”
Akaziel is shocked for a second before his survival instincts kick in to leave the kitchen. But as he turns around, he sees Bookman standing in the doorway. The wizard just waves and smiles at Akaziel, before slamming the door shut and locking it from outside. Desperately, Akaziel storms forward, pounding vainly at the door while from behind he hears the creation flow towards him. “FAATTHHEERR!”

While Akaziel is being devoured by the thing in the kitchen, a group of wizard has gathered upstairs to examine a side effect of the Hex’s discharges. Four wizards in full regalia are standing around one of their colleagues in a much more… unofficial appearance.
“Atreyu? Are you OK?”
*Bleat*
“Does it mean yes?”
“How am I supposed to know? I don’t speak llama.” firepup notices that he is being looked at viciously and continues. “It is not too uncommon, though. I hear the librarian was being transformed into an orang-utan through a similar event. Maybe we can get Atreyu a position as assistant” firepup laughs and ducks a projectile of spit.
“Quit joking around. We should try to help him, though”
*Bleat*
“We will have you back in human form in no time. Inky and Alarra are on their way to find a spell to help you.”
*Bleat*
“Why do they even care?” firepup remarks again smiling “All of this effort just for a stupid animal.” He turns around to Atreyu with a sheepish look but he is shocked to stare into the bloodshot eyes of the llama-turned wizard. Without a warning Atreyu charges firepup, throwing him to the ground. The attacked wizard reaches for his staff and soon the two of them exchange blows back and forth. The other wizards just stand around them unsure whether and how to intervene. Finally after a short brawl, the llama limps away while firepup lies still on the ground, head and neck shattered by the former wizard’s hooves.
“He probably shouldn’t have called him animal…”
“Yup…”
“Don’t worry Atreyu, we’ll help you.”
“Looks like he lost a lot of blood though.” Together the other wizards examine the llama that had taken a lot of hits as well and is suffering from countless wounds and bruises.
“You probably need medical attention quickly.”
*Bleat*
“No, we can’t wait until the others are back. Maybe you die here.”
*Bleat*
“I think he wants to tell us how serious it is. We need something quick.”
*Bleat!*
“I’ll try ‘Melf’s Greater Restoration’”
“I’ll help with ‘Maximised Firehealing’”
“Let’s try ‘Alter Shape’ as well…”
Another dozen spells later, the trio of pingcode, Indurain and Thes Hunter looks at the mass before them. The llama wizard had been turned into a red bubbling goo by the mass of spells hurled at it.
“We probably overdid it.”
“Yup”
“Maybe trying them all over when they didn’t work the first time was a bad idea.”
“Maybe”
“Well, it could have worked. Let’s go down again to look how the others are…”
Indurain doesn’t finish the sentence. He had just turned around to leave as he sees Alarra and inky stand in the hallway. Both of them look at the red paste with furry bits that is all too well identifiable as Atreyu’s remains. The scrolls, they had carried with them, had fallen to the ground and scattered.
“Why…?” the two of them mutter while their tears soil the paper at their feet. Before the others have found a suitable reply, they face the two staves of Alarra and inky raised and pointed forward. Filled with justified rage, the two of them release a salvo of flaming bolts into the group. With a quick leap, pingcode reaches safety in a neighbouring corridor and flees the scene from there. Indurain and Thes Hunter are not that Lucky, though. The spells of the two assailants incinerate both them and the remains of the llama on the spot.
“For Atreyu” they whisper and leave the area in silence.

Throughout the university, battles between the wizards occur but not all of them are sudden outbreaks. In the gardens outside the hall, a group of wizards has gathered to fight for the title in a more regulated manner. They decide to do a series of duels and have the sole survivor of it award himself. Cobra Ikari and Dark Corax have already been determined as the first ones to duel and between the rose bushes, they have started their preparation. Cobra Ikari has gone to meditate in a corner and prepare the right spells to end the match as quickly as possible.
Dark Corax however, knowing of his inferior skills in raw magic, tries to seize a tactical advantage. While his opponent is in trance, he confers with the Professor for Nautical Sorcery Van der Decken on a strategy. The plan involves two parts: The use of an enhanced wizard staff, Van der Decken had purchased earlier, and the professor himself as a backup positioned behind Cobra Ikari, ready to strike if it was needed.
Both of the contestants finish their preparation and assume duelling position. They each take their staff and focus at each other, while Van der Decken sneaks up from behind at Cobra Ikari to intervene if he threatens to win the battle. Then, without a warning, Cobra Ikari seizes the moment and charges towards Dark Corax, swinging his staff above his head to use it as a club. Dark Corax, having already expected something similar, uses his staff to react appropriately. He aims it at the charging opponent and attempts to cast a spell off it. One moment later, a large explosion rips apart the staff before the shockwave tears all of Cobra Ikari, Dark Corax and the lurking Van der Decken into pieces, leaving behind only a smouldering crater.
From behind the bushes, which had grown only because they provided a lot of resistance against shockwaves and magical energy, the DarkLightDragon steps towards the crater and has a look at the charred corpses. Joyously, she exclaims “Ha…sucker. That’ll teach Van der Decken not to test his staves after he has purchased them.” She tosses the roll of Ankh-Morpork-Dollars into the air casually. But as she hears a voice from behind, the startled Dragon lets the money fall into the grass below. Behind her, an angered red mage stares at her.
“So you were the one to steal my cursed staff of fireballing.”
“Uh…”
Before the Dragon can think of a suitable subterfuge, Aegeus has already come to conclusions. A series of fireballs is launched at the Dragon, only adding to the size of the crater and the number of carbonized bodies in it. Cursing, Aegeus leaves behind the crater with his dead opponent in it and goes to change the locks in his chamber.

[Silkenfist]

The two explosions can be heard throughout the entire university. Hyram Graff, both startled and made curious, gets up from his studies and heads down to the garden to investigate. He runs down without paying much heed to his surroundings. That way he doesn’t notice a crucial fact – the fact that the door to the garden has changed. With full momentum from his run, Hyram Graff opens the door – and stares into the abyss of the dungeon dimensions, the dimensions filled to the brim with evil and powerful monsters. The normal garden door had been superimposed with a dimensional door by a fellow wizard, laughing in Hyram Graff’s back. “Very Clever” Graff manages to say before a long spiked tentacle grabs him and drags him into the dimensional rift.
“Your work is done.” Strategos smiles and makes the gestures to close the rift, he had created. But to his surprise, the rift doesn’t close. Instead it expands further and further until it reaches him. Unable to move, he lets out a scream that is quickly silenced by a hand of pure shadows reaching out from the rift, engulfing his head and dragging him into the dungeon dimensions as well. While the open rift still wafts and tentacles lash out from it, Fredricus cheers and taunts the disappeared players.
“Stupid! Never perform transdimensional rituals without an octagon drawn around you.”
“And never allow anyone to mess with them, too” a voice suddenly appears from behind. Fredricus turns around and sees two wizards pressed against the floor with a ten foot pole each. He looks at them puzzled before he realizes their intentions. Before his feet, the chalk markings of the octacle are broken. Fredricus lunges forward to make a run for it, but the things from beyond the rift have already noticed. An arm with a mouth immersed in its palm grabs Fredricus and starts to devour him while he is dragged into the dungeon dimensions already.
alec and heretic look at each other with satisfaction and drop their ten feet poles before they crawl away from the rift. But before they are in a safe distance, they hear a spellcaster from behind. “Stone to Grease” Destro Yersul speaks and gestures to the ground below heretic. While alec hurries and manages to reach safety, his companion is unable to make progress. Sadistically, Destro Yersul looks at heretic for a while before giving him a push, sending him headfirst into the rift. Together with alec, they then make sure to seal the rift from a safe distance before one of their adversaries is able to eventually return.



Actions:

Aegeus: DLD
Akaziel: Castaras
Alarra: Thes Hunter
alec: Fredricus
Angela: Krursk
Atreyu the Masked Llama: firepup
Bookman: Akaziel
Calamity: Air
Captain van der Decken: Cobra Ikari
Captain Fluffy: Air
Castaras: Air
Cobra Ikari: Dark Corax
Dark Corax: Cobra Ikari
DarkLightDragon: Captain van der Decken
Deckmaster: Timeout
Destro Yersul: heretic
Ditto: Timeout
Ezlo: Self
faerwain: Timeout
firepup: Atreyu the Masked Llama
Fredricus: Strategos
Gezina: Self
Gnome Barbarian: Zar Peter
heretic: Fredricus
Hyram Graff: Air
Indurain: Atreyu the Masked Llama
Ink: Air
inky13112: Indurain
KewlKat: Air
Khantalas: Air
Krursk: Air
Lord Fullbladder: Self
Lord Herman: Self
Lord Magtok: Air
Lucky: Lord Herman
pingcode20: Atreyu the Masked Llama
Rashnuk: Ditto
Rumda: Air
Sampi: Krursk
Selrahc: Air
Shadow: Zar Peter
Strategos: Hyram Graff
Thes Hunter: Atreyu the Masked Llama
Zar Peter: Ditto


Possible Archchancellors: 23
Aegeus
Alarra
alec
Angela
Bookman
Calamity
Captain Fluffy
Deckmaster
Destro Yersul
faerwain
Gnome Barbarian
Ink
inky13112
Kewl Kat
Khantalas
Lord Herman
Lord Magtok
pingcode20
Rashnuk
Rumda
Sampi
Selrahc
Shadow


Certain Compost: 21
Akaziel
Atreyu the Masked Llama
Captain van der Decken
Castaras
Cobra Ikari
Dark Corax
DarkLightDragon
Ditto
Ezlo
firepup
Fredricus
Gezina
heretic
Hyram Graff
Indurain
Krursk
Lord Fullbladder
Lucky
Strategos
Thes Hunter
Zar Peter



Exactly half of you survived the first wave. Let's see what happens next. Deadline to send me your next action is Thursday, 1 PM Eastern

Oh, and Player Statistic updates will follow - once again - tomorrow.

[DarkLightDragon]

We got him...

[Cobra_Ikari]

*shrugs*...I got Corax, I'm happy for now.

...bastard...killing my senator ancestor like that... ;)

[Lord Magtok]

Woo! Nobody shot me!

[pingcode20]

Why am I dead...? :smallconfused:

Nobody shot me, and I shot Atreyu...

[Lord Fullbladder, Master of Goblins]

.....

We'll see if anyone takes on Goblin Biology and Troll Psychology without ME around, eh?

[evnafets]

evnafets shoots Faerwain.

I WILL HAVE MY REVENGE!


Hmmm.
I guess this wasn't obvious enough as a signup attempt.
Next time I'll stick with the same old boring "Sign me up"

[inky13112]

For Atreyu! :smallfurious:

Oh hey the number of people in this game cut exactly in half. Thats convenient.

@Pingcode and Evnafets perhaps Evnafets shot Pingcode but didn't get put in the roster? Hmm thats strange, not that I have any power over it anyways.

[Alarra]

Yay! For Atreyu!

hehehe....best scene ever. *sheds a tear over her dear llama friend*

[Ezlo]

NOOOO! Still no Meatloaf Day! I WILL get Meatloaf Day accepted! Someday.... Somehow...

[Silkenfist]

oopa...mistyped that one: pindcode is alive.

[Lord Herman]

Yay! I got shot!

[Krursk]

...Only two shot me? I feel insulted.

[Fredricus]

I died! I'll be back!

[Castaras]

* Sniff *

Akaziel, what did I ever do to you? The one game I don't do suicide, and I get shot. :smallfrown:

The pies will have their revenge! The Super intelligent pies will kill you! Sometime. If I get round to it.

[DarkCorax]

@Cobra, I only shot you last game because I was looking for someone who wasn't likely to shot themselves, but ah vell...

[Castaras]

Silkenfist, after reading through all of it, I'd just like to say:

You deserve loads of massive cookies. I've been reading all the way through the pas ready aim fires, and I would say that that part of writing was your peak. It was so damn amazing, and so funny. Gratz on the writing skills, I bow down to you.

And the pies have had their vengance! They will destroy you all! FEAR THE POWER OF THE PIE!

[Silkenfist]

@evnafets: Sorry, I had completely overlooked you. Maybe I read it and thought I had signed you up already. At least autosignups will reduce that problem in the future somewhat.

@Castars: *blushes*

@all: Statistics will follow later today. I'm off to work first.

[Cobra_Ikari]

@Cobra, I only shot you last game because I was looking for someone who wasn't likely to shot themselves, but ah vell...

*grins*...I know that was why you did that last round, I just wanted to do a silly revenge thing...

...but you shot me this round, too! *glares halfheartedly and hugs*...ah, well, we're both dead, so...doesn't matter. :)

[Ink]

Amazing. I actually lived.

Good stuff, Silken.

[Aegeus]

Yes! I reached round 2! And I killed someone! Yeah!

[Rashnuk]

yay :) im alive

[Silkenfist]

Data:

:vaarsuvius:: The almighty Player Statistics thread. Check out your adversaries (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=29553)

:roy:: The Hall of Fame (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1686881#post1686881)

:durkon:: The Rules (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=26710)

Updated a lot. Many new players included and some of the big awards switched hands. Have a look at it.

[Lord Herman]

Woo! I'm an absolute suicidal shell of a human being!

[Aegeus]

That's not something to covet...

By the way, I just realized that my name is at the top of the list of players. It's unfortunately conspicuous.

[Shadow]

Hey Gnome Barbarian.
Puddle. I won!

[Gnome Barbarian]

I think that was my first actual kill...well kinda.

[firepup]

wow... that was funny. I wouldn't of expected The masked llama to attack me.

[Alarra]

Hey Silkie....You trying to give my win away to Angela? *pouts*

[Atreyu the Masked LLama]

nothing personal firepup. My fueder forgot to play this round

[Akaziel]

I got shot... well, at least there's next round.

[firepup]

yeah I figured. I just thought it was funny we attacked each other at the same time.

[Atreyu the Masked LLama]

hey! you did attack me. Gah! I smell a new fued.

[Calamity]

Fued, you mean the stuff that you eat? Yeah, that's food :smalltongue:
On another note, I survived the first round! o_O

@V: Yeah, i get that with the word "From" I always seem to spell it form.

[Atreyu the Masked LLama]

Its a mental quirk that I automatically spell that word wrong.

*Shrugs* "Fornit some fornus"

[firepup]

heh. i thought that was funny. I just randomly chose, and it was your name.

[Silkenfist]

Whoa...received 21 of 23 actions already. Unfortunately, the new round won't go up until tomorrow. I'll be attending a preliminary easter festive.

[Silkenfist]

Writing stuff up now:

The moon of the Discworld has risen high above the Tower of Arts of Ankh-Morpork’s Unseen University. Its white light bathes the campus in a pale shimmer which is slowly pushed back by the flickering light coming from the High Energy Magic building where Hex’ activity have continued to increase. Even the diehard operators have left the building in terror as the frequency of Hex’ humming fell below audibility. With the immense thaumaturgical activity, the discharge have grown in number and weakened the structure of the building. The threat of a collapse had been averted by the death of a number of archchancellor candidates which slowed down the machine enough to by the wizards some more time to find a suitable successor to Mustrum Ridcully. But still the threat of a devastating explosion is salient enough to keep drawing the wizards into battle. Some wizards have drawn their own conclusions though…
In the campus garden, heretic, Magtok and Captain Fluffy have met to debate strategy. The past hours have proved that their colleagues are determined to kill the competition and claim the office for themselves. The worst possible tricks could be expected and it would certainly be a good idea to avoid them through anticipation.
“They will certainly try this.”
“Sooner or later, yes. We know they are able to and they are probably killing each other already with it. We are next”
“So what are we waiting for?” Magtok asks nervously. “Let’s kill them as long as we are able to.”
Fluffy and heretic nod to agree and ready their staves. Together with Magtok they start to chant formulas and point upwards.
800 feet above them, Selrahc sits glumly at the edge of the tower. He had locked himself in his chamber with his abacus to do his own calculations and he doesn’t like the result. It is already too late to change anything, even if they determine the chancellor right now. Hex’ activity was already climbing at an irreversible rate and even the removal of the original uncertainty source would change nothing. He looks at his abacus again but the numbers couldn’t be denied. Selrahc sighs and stands up. No way to leave the blast radius in time and the leap seems better than becoming a puddle…or worse. Angrily, he kicks down his abacus and follows him with a desperate leap. But as his body travels down with deadly velocity, he suddenly notices a tingle as he passes the morphological field around the tower. He looks at his body and notices that it suddenly is not composed of flesh and cloth anymore. Instead the field had given him an outer shell of a solid metallic substance.
“Is this good or bad?” Selrahc wonders as he looks down at the wizards below him just at the centre of impact for him. Then he passes the second morphological field…
In the centre of impact, Magtok has started to give orders where to aim when suddenly he sees two things drop right between the wizards. They look down and see an egg lying between them. It has cracked on the stone between their feet and let the yolk leak into the ground. Somehow it smells uncannily like dead hippo. The other thing was harder to identify:
“What is this? It’s some wood and pearls.”
“Could be an abacus.”
“It is one. Looks like one of ‘Cut-Me-Own-Throat-Dibbler’s abaci.”
“The ones with the two pearls missing in the bottom row?”
“Yeah, these ones…but can we please focus.”
“OK, OK”
Grumbling, heretic and fluffy follow Magtok’s order and aim their staves at the empty air around them. Surely, their rivals would try the old “Invisibility + Fly”-trick and this might be the only way against it. Around the Tower of Arts, the air becomes hot and thick with sulphur as the wizards release salvo after salvo of flaming spells into the air.

While Selrahc’s broken transformed body lies on the stone floor, the wizard hasn’t died before showing his calculations to others. He has let in Khantalas on the fact that they are all doomed anyway. Khantalas had failed to spot the error in Selrahc’s calculations. Instead he immediately ran off in an effort to save himself from an explosion with a blast radius of dozens of miles. Just now, he has forced himself to stay calm and concentrate on possible solutions. There was no time for a good teleportation spell and even the hastening spells wouldn’t suffice. Khantalas tries to think of a promising spell, but – failing to find one – he decides to ask his colleagues for help. He turns around and returns to the professor’s chambers. He tugs at a few doors without luck as the inhabitants are either dead, on the hunt or hiding. But after some failed attempts, Khantalas has finally some luck. The door of the Professor for Insensible Geometry stands invitingly open. Khantalas peeks inside and sees the chairholder faerwain inside.
“Uhm…hello?”
“Ah, good evening. Is it urgent or can it wait until consultation hours.”
“Urgent. Listen, the situation with Hex worries me and I have done calculations that show a possible thaumonuclear reaction within the next minutes. I would prefer to be as far away from the faculty as quickly as possible.”
“Hrm…” faerwain hums while scratching his bear. “Maybe I have something that could help you.” He produces a pair of boots from an armoire. They look a bit oversized but between the rich ornaments, several straps and buckles form a tight closing mechanism. “Seven-league boots.” the professor exclaims while looking at Khantalas. “One of my students has given them to me as a present. They are just what you need.”
“And…how do they work?”
“Simple. Go outside. Put on the boots and start running. With seven leagues in each step you should be able to escape.”
“Oh…thanks.” Khantalas looks dumbfounded at the boots and takes them with him before a thought befalls his mind. Standing in the doorway already, he turns around to ask: “But…if this place explodes. Wouldn’t you rather want to use them than hand them to me?”
“Uhm…I would, yes. But I can’t. Uhm…game leg and such.” The professor gestures to his splinted leg. “I’ll probably die here anyway. But you can do it.” Faerwain hears a shouted ‘Thanks’ before Khantalas runs off. He turns around and walks up to the windows in the back of the hall that are facing the garden. He wonders what the intents of the students were when they gave him the boots. His intents were by all means were rather malevolent. He looks out and sees Khantalas equipping the boots, standing up and making the first step.
Even through the thick window glass, faerwain is able to hear the ripping sound of snapping sinews and the short horrid scream following. Khantalas hadn’t asked for the obvious flaw in seven-league boots and just started running – which sent one of his feet seven leagues away from his other feet. A long line of thin red paste and fleshy bits indicates roughly in which direction the wizard had intended to run. Faerwain smirks and returns to his office.
While the sound of Khantalas being snapped in two had unsettled or at least startled most of the faculty, one has not even paid attention. After Hex had built up too much Energy to stay near it even in a protective suit, the ‘Dimensions of Battlefare’ operators had left the room. But while faerwain had retreated to his office, Deckmaster has not given up hope to return to the game in time and maybe gain and edge against his rival. He had kept lurking outside the building, waiting for Hex to power down and then immediately rush to the console again. But so far the machine has shown no signs of stopping to build up thaumaturgical energy and Deckmaster’s patience has grown short. Before his eyes, the possibility of becoming the unreachable leader in the rankings is envisioned in bright colours. Finally, it becomes too much for him. He jumps up and charges into Hex’ operating room, letting loose his favourite battle cry. Throughout the garden area, a loud scream can be heard.
“LEEEEEEROOOOY JEEEEENKINS”
Followed by the dull sound of a large discharge. And then silence.
A few dozen yards away, from a safer position, Sampi and the Gnome Barbarian look at a small puddle flowing slowly downhill. They shrug and turn around to hide in the bushes again. Gnome Barbarian points at various places of the garden, explaining the setup to Sampi.
“This is the game we play. We have dug nine holes in the ground and covered them with illusions. We wait until someone comes along this path and then we bet which hole they will fall in.”
“Sounds fun. Who is playing with us?”
“Shadow. He had already placed his bet and he is now busy luring victims this way. Wait, here comes one.” The Gnome gestures to Destro Yersul who has approached the trapped area. “Quick, place a bet.”
“Uhm…hole seven.”
“OK, Shadow had bet on hole one, my bet is on the four. Now we wait until…hey, what is he doing?”
“Stunned, the Barbarian and Sampi watch Destro. But contrary to their plan, the wizard doesn’t use they way but cuts across the grass to the old well in the middle of the garden.
“Is this part of a plan? Are there more holes?”
“No. And what is worse, he will never reach hole four from there. What is he doing?”
From out of their cover, Gnome Barbarian and Sampi observe Destro approaching the well, climbing the stone casing and throw himself down.
“You know…he always seemed a bit depressive to me.”
“Yeah…whatever. Come, we’ll finish him.”
“He jumped down the well. Don’t you think that would suffice?”
“Not really.” Gnome Barbarian grits his teeth. “Guess where we put all the Earth we dug out. He fell about six feet deep, not more. But we will fulfil his death wish.”
Gnome Barbarian drags Sampi with him and together they leave their cover to go around the trapped field. But suddenly they don’t feel ground beneath their feet, though. With a surprised scream, both of them plummet down.
After a short while, Gnome Barbarian regains his senses. He shifts his body and notices the broken corpse of Sampi beneath him. “Well at least I was on top” he thinks as he painfully gets up and looks above. The opening of the hole is high above his head and he feels in no shape to start climbing. He tries to think how this could happen when he suddenly stares in Shadow’s smiling face appearing above.
“Hiya. You comfortable down there?”
“Shadow? You did this?”
“Well…duh. Figured, I could kill two birds with one Fireball.”
“Isn’t it called ‘Two Birds with one stone’?” The Gnome’s head hurts.
Shadow contemplates for a moment. “No. That doesn’t make any sense. How could you ever do that? Stones don’t ricochet off of birds very well. And do you know how hard it is to hit even one of them? Ah, well…” Shadows face disappears and Gnome Barbarian hears a muffled debate between him and someone else.
“He fell in hole three, Rashnuk wins. If you would be so kind to pay up.”
“Bah. I could have sworn he would take the other way around. But for the price can I at least give him the coup de grace?”
“Feel free to do so. Just watch the holes.”
Gnome Barbarian waits some more after he has vainly tried to climb the wet earth. Finally he sees the face of Alarra appear in the opening.
“Hi!”
“Hi, Alarra. Listen, you need to…”
“Gnome, you have just cost me two months of tuition fees and a dinner for Rashnuk. You will pay for that.”
“What? But I am not responsible for…” the rest of the Barbarian’s answer becomes muffled as a handful of mud is thrown into his face, followed by another and another. Helplessly, he watches Alarra fill the hole up again, ignoring his pleas for mercy.
After half an hour, Alarra has finished patting the mud above Sampi’s and Gnome Barbarian’s earthy grave. Still cursing, she stomps the ground one last time and turns around to change clothes. But as she turns around, she bumps into Rumda. Meeting his stare, she startles and takes a few steps back.
“Hello Alarra.”
“Hi Rumda. Nice to meet you outside…always nice to catch a breath of fresh air and such.”
“Don’t play games with me, Alarra. You know why I am here.”
“Yeees… listen, if you would just wait another month, I will be sure to have your money.”
“Another month…right. But what were you doing this month?”
“Listen, I had this tip. It was dead sure and…”
“Dead sure sounds appropriate. As in ‘dead sure’ I will never see a coin of it. And as in ‘dead sure’ I will not tolerate this.” Rumda grunts and snips his fingers. From behind him, two muscle-bound Trolls appear.
“You called, boss?”
“She blew it. She’s yours.”
Alarra stares in horror as the Trolls approach her. She tries vainly to think of spells that could hurt the massive beings before her survival instincts activate her legs. Albeit, it is too late already. The enforcers have already grabbed her and dragged her with them ignoring her screams.
“You can’t do that. Trolls aren’t allowed on the campus.”
“Oh please…you better not be dis…dis..disminating. It hurtful for Trolls.”
“Yeah…why everyone think we monsters who steal and eat children.”
“It’s pre…prejudish, right. Besides…” the larger Troll turns around and smile at Alarra with a smile composed entirely of diamonds. “First, we not steal, we civilisized. And uhh…then, we not eat children, grown human much fleshier.”
Alarra drifts off into a merciful unconsciousness while the Trolls take off to buy garnish.

[faerwain]

He's walking
Yes indeed
He's walking
with the boots of me
And I'm hoping
That I don't have to clean

Whatcha gonna do when Khan runs by?
How do you keep the pavement dry?
The mop has to be right by your side
The funny day when Khansy dies...

by Faers Domino

[Khantalas]

Curse you, Faerwain Spoon!!!

[Silkenfist]

While Alarra meets a rather grim future as troll food, two other wizards can be found in the dining hall to load up on food for the strainful hours to come. Bookman returns from the kitchen, where he had taken out Akaziel earlier, in search of a new victim. He sneaks up the stairs and peeks into the refectory where he sees nobody except Aegeus. The red mage sits alone at a table and has loaded his plate with an opulent meal. Bookman uses the cover of the large cakes on the dessert table to come nearer without being noticed. He looks at Aegeus’ rich meal and while cowering behind a half-eaten ox, ponders ways to depose his opponent. He takes another look and suddenly the idea hits him. He peeks over to watch closely the wine carafe next to him before preparing his spell. A couple of poisonous hornets should certainly do the trick…Bookman waits until Aegeus has filled his mug and then creates an air bubble and carefully places the hornets inside before using his ‘Smaller Teleport’ to place the bubble inside Aegeus’ flagon. He tries to suppress a snicker as he cowers behind the oxen again. He eavesdrops on Aegeus only waiting for his stifled screams when he would drink the hornets. But instead of screams he hears a kind of speech.
“So this be it. The University is rotten if these so-called wizards fail to find a solution other than this. Let this be my cup of hemlock, I’ll prefer to be somewhere else when the most lunatic one is appointed chancellor.” Aegeus grimly takes a small bottle out of his robe. Its thrice-reinforced glass is already melting away, which is a good indication for excellent wow-wow-sauce. Aegeus looks at the bottle with the viciously flaring red content before producing a pair of pliers to open the bottle. He waits until the resulting flame has died down a bit before pouring it into his drink. “Five drops should suffice” he thinks as he sees them pour into this mug.
The next thing Aegeus knows consciously is him lying on the ground of the refectory with pain but very much alive. He scratches his head as he painfully gets up to see what had happened. A trail of destruction over the dinner tables leave him some clues. It starts with his mug that had just shattered, followed by two large fancy cakes into which several clear holes had been cut and finishing in an ox that had been similarly punctured. Aegeus goes around to investigate further only to find his fellow wizard Bookman being nailed to the opposite wall. With some effort, Aegeus pries down his corpse from the wall and sees a couple of burning hornets sticking out of his chest. Looking at the trail of destruction back until the wow-wow-sauce eating itself through the stone floor, he scratches his head and leaves the room. Maybe there was a form of higher justice, still.
Unbeknownst to him, up on the peak of Cori Celesti, a smaller god throws his dice onto the floor in frustration screaming…

Aegeus hasn’t been the only one with suicidal plans, though. Lord Herman has been conversing with him earlier, coming to the same conclusion. Herman however, had planned to destroy part of the decadent University with him. He has locked himself in his chamber and started to paint the runes for his ritual. He mutters curses about the incompetent wizards taking over the University while preparing the reagents. “At least” he mentally adds “I was lucky enough to find the reagents required. It was awfully nice of them to sell them.” He proceeds to apply the needle and the eagle’s blood to this thaumaturgical circle while starting the required chants.
These chants are also what keeps him from noticing the two wizards eavesdropping on his door. Alec and Ink had provided him with the spell components earlier without hesitation. Now they are standing behind his door eager to hear the result of the spell. They suppress their anticipation while chitchatting whispering.
“We should get an unseen observer to record what happens. It will be great.”
“I bet it will. But did he actually tell you what he planned to cast?”
“Actually…no. He seemed very reluctant about it.” alec replies. “Probably something to aid him in battle. I don’t know exactly, so I just tried to generally disrupt him.”
“Sounds sensible” Ink tries vainly to deduct from the chant to the spell. “He came to me for eagle’s blood. Could be used on a line of things. I gave him sparrow instead. It should either weaken the effect of his spell or create lapses. I’ll take both.”
“Nice. He wanted to have a mere needle. Well, he has a magnetic one now. Let’s see what it does.”
“Hey, maybe we can deduct.” Ink smiles. “What spell requires eagle blood AND a needle.” He looks at alec but suddenly both of their faces freeze in terror.
“Glimdoodles Excessively Spectacular Explosion” they scream simultaneously before they are ripped into shreds by a shockwave blasting the door through their bodies and all of the remains into the wall at the end of the corridor. Together with them, all of the corridor has become annihilated…except for the epicentre of the explosion, where something had created a lapse in the explosion and another lucky coincidence had caused Lord Herman to become sucked into the area before the spell went off. In midst of the destruction, the wizard stands and looks puzzled at his surroundings.
“I’ll…probably need new reagents.” Herman mutters as he carefully steps over the ruins.

While the last resonances of the explosion die down, the other wizards are immersed in their own plans. The wizard pingcode had drawn conclusion similar to Herman in that he chose to die in his own office. The next weeks would certainly see many needless deaths and disgraceful events and it wasn’t likely anyone would be able to be safe from them. While pingcode sets up the ritual circle and rummages for the reagents, he assures himself that there is but one solution to come out of it with an intact reputation. If a wizard would disappear entirely, there would be room in legends to be positive. There would be no account of a defeat or assassination and there would be legends of a possible return. “The reality wouldn’t be as pretty as the legend, but you can’t have everything” pingcode thinks while finishing the ritual circle. He makes sure that the spell is only temporary and starts his ritual chant. Immediately a split in the air appears before his eyes.
Some floor below his feet, inky has prepared his own ritual as well, albeit his seems more nefarious. The preparations for his spell are long finished, it is the aftermath that would be more interesting. He takes a step back and looks at his masterwork. Inside the ritual circle a reinforced tank is mounted into the floor. From the tank, there is a hose running up to a Chalice of Neverending Stream that only needed to be activated. He tests the tank one last time by pounding against it and checks the ritual circle again. Satisfied with everything, he steps into the circle and the tank. He seals it shut behind him and activates the water supply. He then starts the ritual of Exchange Person while holding up a strand of pingcode’s hair.
After a violent snap, inky blinks and looks around. He is not in the tank anymore so the spell must have worked. Now he could go back to the cellar death trap and watch pingcode drown. He gets up and turns to leave but to his surprise he is unable to move. A long oozing black tentacle has grabbed him and holds him firm while through a rift in the air, a booming disembodies voice speaks to him.
“So you are the wizards?”
“Uh…what?”
“The wizard who sent an astral messenger screaming ‘Bel-Shamaroth is a pantywaist.’?”
“What?” With horror inky stares into the abyss at the Blood-and-Ooze-god. “I didn’t do that, I…” before he can defend himself, inky is pulled into the rift and with a putrid smack the rift closes behind him.
In the cellar below, inky has found himself in the tank death trap which is slowly filling with water.
“Not quite what I had in mind.” he thinks. After a few desperate but vain escape attempts, he gives up and leans against the wall, waiting for the end. He curses the stupid wizard while feeling the water rise up his chest. But then, to his surprise, the water level stays constant before slowly sinking. Confused, pingcode opens his eyes again and sees a large rift in the container. As he examines it closer, he sees that something had burned itself through the ceiling and had dropped onto the tank dissolving part of one wall in the process. Through the rift, the water trickles down into the ground below. Pingcode, with regained energy and hope, grabs the rift and starts to chip away the glass shards to free himself.

Meanwhile, in the Library, a smaller group of wizards has decided to find arcane help to aid them in their ambitions. Under the eyes of the orang-utan Librarian of the university, they examine the bookcases. Still they are only browsing through the student’s section where the more sedate and harmless spellbooks could be found. The stands in the back, where the books with the oldest and most potent spells are resting, were dreaded among wizards. When powerful spells are written down, the paper itself would start to become powerful and – in many cases – too strong for unsuspecting readers. The wizards had decided to not take the risk of going toe to page with one of the heavy grimoires yet. Inside the section of lighter literature, Angela, KewlKat and Calamity can be found browsing through the books in search of something to turn the battle around to their liking. However, as time passes they keep failing to find something that could aid them. The stress of needing to find something is handled by them…diversely. While her colleagues are sill browsing, something seems to have snapped inside of Angela. She has sat down on the floor and grabbed a stack of books. Cackling manically, she starts to take the books and arbitrarily tear pages out of them. Soon she sits in the midst of a pile of paper, while the books themselves try to get away from the lunatic wizards...until she snaps their binding to end their attempts. Still cackling, she continues until she feels a warm smelly hand on her shoulder…
“Ugh!”
The Librarian has always been protective about the books and his newfound ability to break human bones at will has come in handy ever since his transformation. Hiding behind a bookcase, Calamity watches in awe as the orang-utan has grabbed Angela and started to break one bone for each page she had destroyed. As he witnesses the cruel spectacle that leaves Angela in a whimpering dying mass, he has an idea on how to get rid of at least one adversary…
A few minutes later, KewlKat returns from his search. He had conversed with Calamity but apparently neither of them was able to find something. Frustrated, he storms past the Librarian’s desk to leave the place and come up with a new plan. But just as he opens the door and is about to exit, he is suddenly unable to move forward. A long hairy arm has grabbed his neck and spun him around while the other one slowly extracts two books from his pocket.
“Ugh?”
“What? These books? I don’t want to borrow them.”
“Ugh!”
“What? No, I don’t want to steal them either. They…must have fallen into my pocket or something. Really.”
“Ugh? Iiek! Ugh!”
“No really, you have to believe me. Stupid animal.” Suddenly KewlKat feels the grip tighten painfully. He stares into the smiling face of the orang-utan. Then he reminds himself that orang-utans don’t smile…they only bare their teeth…
The short-lived screams of KewlKat become muffled as Calamity closes the Library’s door behind him. He chuckles and strolls away whistling.

[Silkenfist]

Actions:
Aegeus: Self
Alarra: Gnome Barbarian
alec: Lord Herman
Angela: Self
Bookman: Aegeus
Calamity: KewlKat
Captain Fluffy: Air
Deckmaster: Timeout (lethal)
Destro Yersul: Self
faerwain: Khantalas
Gnome Barbarian: Destro Yersul
Ink: Lord Herman
inky13112: pingcode20
Kewl Kat: Air
Khantalas: Air
Lord Herman: Self
Lord Magtok: Air
pingcode20: Self
Rashnuk: Gnome Barbarian
Rumda: Alarra
Sampi: Destro Yersul
Selrahc: Self
Shadow: Gnome Barbarian


Possible Archchancellors: 11
Aegeus
Calamity
Captain Fluffy
Destro Yersul
faerwain
Lord Herman
Lord Magtok
pingcode20
Rashnuk
Rumda
Shadow

Certain Compost: 33
Akaziel
Alarra
alec
Angela
Atreyu the Masked Llama
Bookman
Captain van der Decken
Castaras
Cobra Ikari
Dark Corax
DarkLightDragon
Deckmaster
Ditto
Ezlo
firepup
Fredricus
Gezina
Gnome Barbarian
heretic
Hyram Graff
Indurain
Ink
inky13112
Kewl Kat
Khantalas
Krursk
Lord Fullbladder
Lucky
Sampi
Selrahc
Strategos
Thes Hunter
Zar Peter


Send your actions for next round until Tuesday, 1 PM Eastern

Statistics will follow - as usual - somewhat later.

[Aegeus]

Hmm... Some rather effective suicides that round. In fact, only 2 suiciders actually died.

Aegeus studies a map of the university, sketches out some lines, and then marks an X on the office of a competing wizard.
"It was Aegeus, in the University, with the Hadoken."

Note: This event above may or may not happen. Any attempt to divine my actions from it probably will not succeed.

[Lord Herman]

Hmm... Some rather effective suicides that round. In fact, only 2 suiciders actually died.

Interesting. In that case, I think I'll shoot myself again next round.

[Gnome Barbarian]

I have an arch nemisis now Shadow.... We agreed to attack the same person...I was going to shoot him but then decided agaisnt it and he shot me. Wow I got shot 3 times...wow.

[Alarra]

I knew I should have gone after Shadow instead!

[Gnome Barbarian]

lol...I should have thought iwas bateing him and shot myself instead.

[HyramGraff]

Interestingly, this round also halved the number of competetiors still alive. Personally, I'm going to guess that this will take five more rounds before we have a victor.

[Shadow]

I knew who you were going to shoot...
I knew it wasn't yourself.
Why wouldn't I double cross you?

I win!

[Calamity]

EDIT: Uhh, Shadow is still alive, apparently the thing that died is my brain. Sorry about that. :smallredface:

Oh and KewlKat?
...
...
ORANGUTANG'D!

[Silkenfist]

Data:

:vaarsuvius:: The almighty Player Statistics thread. Check out your adversaries (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=29553)

:roy:: The Hall of Fame (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1686881#post1686881)

:durkon:: The Rules (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=26710)


Lots of cool stuff happened. KewlKat enters the Hall of Fame and becomes known as a loathed pacifist while Angela seizes a runner-up title.

[Alarra]

*pokes Silkie*
You're still trying to give my win away to Angela. I don't approve. You should fix it. :smallsmile:

[Akaziel]

Heh, my death is avenged... An interesting round this has become.

[Silkenfist]

Alarra: Fixed

[Alarra]

Heh...and now my stats are all bolded.

*wonders when silkie will tell her to just go away*

[Silkenfist]

Wouldn't do so. Fixed that one as well.

[faerwain]

*wonders when silkie will tell her to just go away*


Wouldn't do so.

He's more subtle than that. Did you really believe that 5 of us had actually send "I shoot Alarra" to him back then?

[Deckmaster]

Oops! I forgot about this.

Since when are time-outs lethal? Is that a new rule?

[Aegeus]

If you miss 2 rounds in a row, then the timeout is lethal.

[Silkenfist]

OK, the deadline has passed...now and I have barely half the actions. I'll extend the deadline for 24 hours to

a) get the last actions

b) get the time to set up the first rounds in the Dungeon of Doom

[Shadow]

I have an arch nemisis now Shadow.... We agreed to attack the same person...I was going to shoot him but then decided agaisnt it and he shot me. Wow I got shot 3 times...wow.
hehehe...

I knew I should have gone after Shadow instead!
hehehe...

Sorry, Silky. Just got my connection fixed. I'll send my action in a sec.

[pingcode20]

You have mine, yes?

[Silkenfist]

OK...now I have your actions. In fact, I have two from pingcode (Unless you tell me otherwise I use the later one).

Unfortunately, it is 2 AM already, so the next round won't go up before tomorrow.

[Silkenfist]

Sorry in advance but with Dungeons of Doom in the kickoff process, I will have to cut back on the other contests a bit. Backstories will be significantly shorter this time…

“Yes, Io – I am afraid that is the rule”
Several personae have gathered around the small conflict. In Cori Celesti, high above the clouds, there was few disport and even the most intriguing wars, feuds and conflicts of their believers could only amuse the gods for so long. A dispute between two of them, however, was always entertaining.
“Well, it is a stupid rule anyway. I killed him.”
“Yeees, you tried to kill him. But he tried to kill himself as well.” Fate, who had opposed Io, was pointing at Nuggan, one of the lesser gods in Dunmanifestin. With black eyes he replies the Blind Io’s sightless stare.
“But it is a stupid rule. He should be…double dead. It always works this way.”
Fate dismisses a brief thought about how ‘Double Dead’ would look like before answering. “Technically, this might be true. But I explained the rules to you. You attacked him and now your wizard is dead instead.” Fate grabs the figurine of something that looks like a squirrel dressed in wizard robes and snips it from the table in ostentation. Provokingly, he looks at Io but he earns only a grunt from the elder god.
“Bah. It’s a stupid game anyway. I’m off to start a conflict between two herders somewhere. Where people will die normally.”
Fate sighs and faces the eleven remaining gods at the table while trying to ignore Nuggan’s gloating snicker. “I believe it is your turn then. Show me what you got.”

Several miles below and several hundred miles rimwards, the playing field of the gods continues its spiral of death. Even with the death of three quarters of the competing wizards, Hex has shown no intent of slowing down and kept throwing random discharges into the university garden. Another discharge jolts through the open door and into a bed of beets. Immediately, their leaves turn into rainbow colours and triple their size before becoming transparent disappearing. From out of their cover only a few yards away, a small group of wizards has observed the process.
“Another one.”
“It has been the fourth in the last minutes. And the rate is climbing.”
“It appears that we need to take action. You know what I mean.”
In the darkness of Modo’s garden shed, three pairs of eyes look at each other in a mix of discomfort and resolution. For a few long seconds, they fixate each other before they join each other in a simultaneous nod.
“It is decided then. Let us go now and choose the end we see fit. May this cause the faculty itself to persist.”
“For the faculty.” they speak together before they depart – each of them in a separate direction.

One of them doesn’t walk away too far. Shadow had initiated the meeting and he was the one to realize the necessity for a quick end even if it was a grim one. He walks away from the cover of the shed and strolls to the large garden area and stops in front of the array of disguised holes where he played many of his rivals against each others. But those remaining were not that stupid and nobody would fall for his tricks again. The time for games is over…now the time for decisions has come. Shrugging away a last feeling of sadness, Shadow dashes back the sleeves of his wizard robe and starts to cast his spell. While he concentrates, he feels something form high in the air above him. He mutters the invocation formula into his beard. As he speaks the last word, he starts to feel emptiness inside him.
“For the faculty” he remarks as he looks up to await the impact of the Meteor he had just summoned and centred on his location…only to look into the eyes of pingcode. The enemy wizard has snuck up on him with the help of a fly spell and is now hovering above Shadow’s head with his stave readied and pointed at his target.
“Hi, Shadow” pingcode says while failing to disguise his smile. “Do you have any last words you want to get out.”
“As a matter of fact, I do.” Shadow replies the smile. “There is always time for games. Two”
Pingcode stares at his opponent in bewilderedness. Ignoring the sound from above, he doesn’t even notice the meteor until it is too later. The burning stone hits pingcode’s side, throwing him down to the ground and deflecting away from its trajectory. Shadow watches in amazement as the meteor rolls into one of the holes and the screaming and burning pingcode into another. As the screams die down slowly, Shadow shakes his head. “Two times wrong. I need more practice.”

One other wizard has not lost his humor and sense for games either. Rumda has started to run through the hallways of the university, cackling manically. “It’s all the fault of those fancy machineries. We have to go back to basics.” he mentions to himself as he shuffles a deck of cards while running. He finds most of the doors barred but after searching a bit he finds the door of Lord Magtok’s chamber open.
“Helloooo Magtok!”
“Hi Rumda. No offence, but could you come back later. I have to…”
“Oh, don’t be a spoilsport. I just want to show you a card trick.”
Magtok eyes Rumda with suspicion. “A card trick? You can bend matter and reality with your mind, your staff and randomly chosen reagents and you want to do a card trick?”
“Oh come on, you’ll like it. Here, choose a card.” Rumda waits for Magtok to take a card out of the fan before handing him a pen. “Now write something on it…Thanks.”
Rumda takes the card and shuffles it back into the deck, while talking to Magtok. “While being inferior to thaumaturgy, you may find that those tricks are relaxing and might actually help you sometimes. He suddenly stops shuffling, holding one card in his outstretched right hand. “And…is THIS your card with your text written on it?”
“Uhm…no, it isn’t. I didn’t write this. I didn’t write ‘ I prepared explosive runes this…” oh, crap.”
Rumda had already ducked behind the wall when Magtok started to read, so the resulting explosion knocks him back only a bit. He gets up and looks at the scattered remains of Lord Magtok before examining the arrowslit, the dead wizard had carved into his window. Judging from the crossbows lying around the chamber, Magtok was the one to randomly sending salvos of crossbow bolts into the sky above the garden. Rumda shrugs and leaves the room to get a fresh deck of cards.

On his way back to get new cards, Rumda passes Calamity. He considers shortly whether to try and trick another one of his colleagues, but the grim stare and the dozen of summoning chalks he was carrying indicate to better leave him alone. Indeed, Calamity is already perceiving his surroundings only partially, his mind focussed only on the task at hand. He arrives in his chamber and immediately starts the preparations for the ritual. Using the different chalks, he creates a large octacle with thick thaumaturgically reinforced lines. As the octacle nears completion, he takes a last look before stepping inside and continuing to draw. While he finishes the last side, he senses the magical barriers forming that would trap him inside. Drawing becomes harder and harder and with completion of the last line, the chalk is yanked out of his hand and thrown outside the octacle, trapping him inside.
“And now for the second part” Calamity thinks as he readies a small device, he had gotten from the students earlier today. They called it a mini-quands-generator and it consists merely of a die locked into a nontransparent box. The wizard shrugs and shakes the box before placing it on the floor. Immediately he feels the thaumaturgical energy around him arise and build up. With the energy locked inside the boundaries of the octacle, it would build up pressure until all contents of the octacle would be incinerated in a thaumaturgical explosion.
“For the faculty” Calamity whispers as he crosses his legs to spend his last minutes in meditation. But just as he has closed his eyes, he is disrupted by a yell from outside the octacle. Startled, he looks up and sees into the eyes of Rashnuk.
“Well well…we have made a little preparation, have we? Mind if I cut in?” Without waiting for an answer, Rashnuk has produced a long pole and starts to scratch away one line of the octacle.
“Rashnuk, honestly I wouldn’t do that.”
“Ah ah…you should lock you door. Now you face the consequ…”
Rashnuk doesn’t get to finish the sentence. As he breaks the first line of the octacle, the thaumaturgical energy that had built up is released at once into a certain direction: The direction of the pole in Rashnuk’s outstretched hands. The wizard aggressor is cremated on the spot, leaving behind Calamity sitting in an open pentacle. He looks at the ashes of his summoning chalks mixed with the ashes of his rival.
“Looks like I will be needing something new” he thinks as he gets up and leaves.

Not all wizards have decided to settle their conflicts in ambushes, though. Outside the university, Fluffy and Lord Herman have met in the garden. With the octarine pulses of the High Energy Magic building casting flickering light onto their faces, they look at each other with determination.
“It ends today, Herman.”
“Do I hear a challenge?”
“Of course.” Captain Fluffy stares down at his smaller opponent. “There is only room for one archchancellor and I can’t rely on you giving way. Choose your weapons but the time is chosen already.”
“If you wish.” Herman smiles wryly and produces two objects, Their grey gnarled bodies reflect and twist the light into a pale shade.
“Dwarven Bread?” Fluffy whispers. Like most humans he has heard of high quality dwarven bread only in legends.
“Sixty inch war baguettes. Nine hundred year old originals, forged in Überwald.”
“You have waited for this moment, didn’t your?”
“Of course I did. Anyway, these shall be our weapons.”
“Fine, if you insist.” Disgruntled, Fluffy grabs one of the baguettes and approaches duelling stance. “This isn’t dignified” he thinks as he raises the bread. “We are wizards, we shouldn’t duel each other with food. Well, except for Pie Friday of course.” Then, one sudden thought crosses his mind. Is dwarven bread actually food? Of course it doesn’t really look or smell like some. But then again, Berserkers were famous for biting their shields during battle. Why not take a bite of the bread?
With some effort, Fluffy chips loose an edge of the baguette and chewing hard swallows it. He looks up and stares at his opponent. Lord Herman, trying not to look intimidated hastens to follow the questionable example and takes a bite out of his own bread. After he has swallowed his own bit with some effort, he looks at Fluffy.
“Quit fooling around. Show me what you have got.”
In a wild charge, they storm towards each other but they don’t even reach close combat. Dwarven Bread is anything but suitable nutrition for humans. Most of its nutritional value is based on the fact that the mere sight of it is able to remind the owner of the nutritional qualities of normal rocks, dirt or the own foot. In the middle of the garden, Fluffy and Lord Herman are soon found twitching on the ground in painful cramps, their screams stifled by their stomach trying to escape the body through the lungs. Then after a few horrible minute, complete silence sets in over the twisted corpses of the two rivals.

While Fluffy and Herman killed themselves rather unintentionally, the third member of Shadow’s suicide triumvirate is seeking his own death rather actively. Destro Yersul has been plotting his suicide earlier without success, this time he has tried to make sure it would work. Inside his experimentation chamber, he has installed a summoning circle with an intentionally flawed octacle drawn around it. He looks at the drawings on the floor and checks them one last time before starting to chant an invocation. Destro Yersul smiles as he anticipates the following events. “At least I will leave with style.” he thinks as he speaks the final word to summon a demon from the dungeon dimensions. As soon as it appears in the circle, it would see his cabinet with dirty laundry and be commanded to clean it for him. With the flawed protection runes, this would become…painful yet interesting. Destro has even installed an iconograph to capture the scene for following wizards. Suddenly he has an idea how to improve the effect further. With coloured chalk, it should be possible to dye the demon pink in the circle. He decides to run off to get some while the called demon slowly starts to form in a cloud of thick air.
Just as Destro has left, faerwain appears in the hallway. Cackling manically, he drags a cabinet with him. With a lot of effort, he pulls it into Destro’s chamber and replaces it with the cabinet already standing there. Preoccupied with his plan and burdened with the manual labour, faerwain doesn’t notice the summoning circle at all. Instead, he throws the content of the old cabinet into the new one, before opening the new one and speaking to it. “Don’t worry, Cabinet. You can have a lot of fun in a minute.”
Sapient Pearwood has become rare in the Discworld during the ages but there still are a few items made of the legendary wood. Items and furniture created out of it are bestowed intelligence by the magical properties of the wood. But unfortunately this intelligence usually comes with strong sadistic and homicidal tendencies against anyone but the owner of the respective piece of furniture. Responsible wizards and owners of sapient pearwood furniture are using these qualities for defensive purposes only. Faerwain however, is none of them. While in the summoning circle behind him the smoke thickens further, faerwain only has eyes for the arrangement of the cabinet, adjusting it again and again. Then he hears a voice from the corridor.
“If I may give you an advice…” Aegeus’ head has suddenly appeared in the doorway. “Take a few steps back. It will give you a better view.”
Faerwain contemplates for one minute setting Cabinet on Aegeus but then decides against it. He would need to prepare for Destro. He shrugs and takes a few steps back…until he notices that he has passed something. Suddenly he finds himself grappled by something uncomfortable warm. A guttural voice appears next to his right ear.
“Hello” the demon says.
As the screams of faerwain disappear in the depths of the circle, Aegeus walks away laughing, leaving behind the ownerless Cabinet. Motionless it stands opposed to the summoning circle, where the completely formed demon has started to flex his limbs, ready to pounce on any intruders. They both don’t have to wait long until a cursing Destro returns, angered that someone has stolen all of the coloured chalk. As he enters his chamber, he suddenly stands face to face to the demon, he has summoned. The towering figure stares down onto him with a condescending grin in its face.
“For the faculty” Destro Whispers before speaking his command. “Foul Demon of the Abyss, hear my command: Do My Laundry!”
For one moment the demon just stays dumbfounded before it completely understands. Rage immediately befalls the creature and it lunges forward to cleave the impertinent mortal in twain. Destro closes his eyes awaiting death…but to his surprise the killing blow doesn’t happen. He blinks and opens his eyes completely. There is no sign of a demon in the room, but strangely his own cabinet has turned around and faces him. He looks at his neatly folded and pressed clothing and the slightest trace of sulphur from the depths of the cabinet. For one moment it looks as if the cabinet winks before the door closes itself again.

[Shadow]

*Bridges fingers together*

"Eeexxxxxxxccceeeelllllllleeeeeennnntttt

[pingcode20]

"Curse you, Shadow!"

[Silkenfist]

Actions:
Aegeus: faerwain
Calamity: Self
Captain Fluffy: Self
Destro Yersul: Self
faerwain: Destro Yersul
Lord Herman: Self
Lord Magtok: Air
pingcode20: Shadow
Rashnuk: Calamity
Rumda: Lord Magtok
Shadow: Self

Possible Archchancellors: 5
Aegeus
Calamity
Destro Yersul
Rumda
Shadow

Certain Compost: 39
Akaziel
Alarra
alec
Angela
Atreyu the Masked Llama
Bookman
Captain Fluffy
Captain van der Decken
Castaras
Cobra Ikari
Dark Corax
DarkLightDragon
Deckmaster
Ditto
Ezlo
faerwain
firepup
Fredricus
Gezina
Gnome Barbarian
heretic
Hyram Graff
Indurain
Ink
inky13112
Kewl Kat
Khantalas
Krursk
Lord Fullbladder
Lord Herman
Lord Magtok
Lucky
pingcode20
Rashnuk
Sampi
Selrahc
Strategos
Thes Hunter
Zar Peter


The Usual: Statistics will follow tomorrow.

Only 5 players remaining. Send in your actions until Saturday, 7 AM Eastern

[Lord Magtok]

NO! I was Explosive Rune'd!

[Captain "Fluffy"]

Wow. That was the furthest I've gotten in this game, but then I made the mistake of actually doing something. Maybe next time...

[inky13112]

Darn it Io, you got me killed. I hope your happy now :smallmad:.

It took me a second to understand the laundry comment. Hmm apparently the demon had the same problem. Is it a bad thing if I have the same mentality as a demon?

[Rashnuk]

Gah, only suicides almost ... more fun killing people by killing them :smalltongue:

[Destro_Yersul]

So I'm the owner of a sapient pearwood cabinet now? Like the Luggage? Shaweet. :smallbiggrin:

[Lord Herman]

Death by dwarven bread... this must be one of the best deaths I've died in Ready, Aim, Fire.

[Castaras]

I still want to know what happened to the monstrous pie in the kitchen. :smalltongue:

[Calamity]

Umm, Silken, you dop know it says there's 11 left above who's alive section?

Oh, and Rashnuk!

ORANGUNTANG'D!!! (after the last round I think that's gonna be what I say to everyone i cause the the death of, cos it's just funny to say)

[Aegeus]

Wow... I've never been so far in this game! A pity that faerwain would have died anyway without me, though.

[Silkenfist]

Data:

:vaarsuvius:: The almighty Player Statistics thread. Check out your adversaries (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=29553)

:roy:: The Hall of Fame (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=1686881#post1686881)

:durkon:: The Rules (http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?t=26710)


Statistics are updated. Woo! KewlKat seizes the title of being the most loathed one and Captain Fluffy enters the statistics. Apart from that, not much happened, though.

[Silkenfist]

12 hours to deadline. Don't forget to send in something.

[Aegeus]

One good thing about this round: Whether I win or lose, I will enter the statistics thread.

[Silkenfist]

Starting to write up stuff....NOW:

The space around the table had cleared somewhat. Only five of the gods had remained as players while the others chose to watch the last turns from a distance. Only Offler and the Blind Io had feigned disinterest and grabbed themselves the Sultan game with the missing hierophants. While the two greater gods peek to the table covertly, the dice roll for the next round.

Oblivious to these events, the five remaining wizards and object of the game have laid their plans. Behind the tower of arts, the octarine pulsing of the High Energy Magic building has already decreased and the discharges of thaumaturgical energy have almost disappeared. But unfortunately for the wizards, this has not been realized by them as they are too occupied with their individual plans to get rid of their opponents as quickly as possible. But with decreasing number of opponents, the remaining mages have become cleverer and more resilient. While the initial assassination attempts have been fruitful, the last attempts were backfiring more often than actually working.
Realizing the situation, two wizards have agreed on a truce to join their forces. Shadow and Destro Yersul can be found inside the refectory, plotting their next step. They create several plans only to discard them again. There is no clear victory to be found and by and by their ideas become more and more surreal. After discarding the “Giant Luminescent Rooster Plan”, it is Shadow to come up with the idea: “If we want to become archchancellor, then we will have to think like an archchancellor”.
Before Destro can reply, Shadow drags him up the stairs to the former archchancellor’s chambers. Hesitating only shortly, hey enter his office, looking for a clue to help them. They notice that all of the rooms are clean…or at least by the standards of the wizards. Approaching Ridcully’s desk, they see a small sealed envelop. They shrug and tear it open only to find the last will of their former chancellor in writing. Huddled together, Shadow and Destro Yersul take a quick glance over it.
“I don’t get it. HE should have become archchancellor?”
“Stupid idea, yeah. Well, now he is dead anyway”
Shadow flicks his fingers and ignites the paper. While he watches it burn, Destro Yersul looks around the private chamber of the wizard.
“We need to think. What would Ridcully have done in this situation?” He enters another chamber and stops. Not saying a word, he gestures to Shadow to come over and look at the wall. Before their eyes, the trophies of the chancellor’s hunting sessions decorate three walls of the chamber. On the opposite side of the room, just below the severed head of a full-frown bear, a mount holds up two double action crossbows. Shadow and Destro look at the weapons, while somewhere in the distance an angelic chorus can be heard.

In another chamber, not too far away, Rumda sits at his own desk, chewing on a quill. For a while he has been trying to come up with a catchy phrase to end the letter, but the gravity of the situation seems to have overwhelmed him. “Why does creativity elude me now” he moans. Finally, he gives up, carefully places the quill back into the clamp and puts back the ink. He slowly gets up and walks to the middle of his chamber, where he has already prepared everything. Five feet above his stool, a hemp noose dangles from the ceiling. Rumda steps onto the stool and places the rope around his neck before calling out loud.
“Could you please show yourself?”
“EXCUSE ME.” Death replies as he steps out of the shadows. “BUT NOT EVERYONE WISHES TO SEE ME BEFOREHAND.”
“I have a question, though. I completely intend to jump. I had expected something different.”
“SOMETHING LIKE A LARGE LONG CASE CLOCK SOMEWHERE IN THE BACK OF YOUR MIND? CONSTANTLY THERE BUT NOT NOTICED UNTIL IT BEGINS TO STRIKE THE FULL HOUR?”
“Something like that, yes.”
“ACTUALLY THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WITH YOU NORMALLY. BUT RIGHT NOW THINGS HAVE BECOME A BIT MORE COMPLICATED” Death remarks while producing a tinted hourglass that has become twisted into an abnormal shape. Rumda looks at the glass with fascination while ignoring the soft knock on his door.
“But I am going to die?”
“I AM COMPELLED TO BE IN THIS PLACE. THERE IS NO MORE I CAN TELL YOU.”
Rumda ponders the words while the knocks on his door become stronger. He still ignores them and casts a final look at Death. “I guess I am about to find out, though”
As Rumda finishes his speech several things happen simultaneously. Before Death’s eyeholes, one hourglass becomes clear to reveal an empty upper half while Rumda kicks away the stool from under his feet. While the inertia keeps him aloft, the door behind him splinters as it is kicked in from outside. Death looks at the last grain fall down into the bottom half as he hears a loud twang. He looks up again to see the dead body of Rumda dangling from the ceiling. On the other side of the room, Shadow and Destro Yersul look at the scenery dumbfounded.
Death meets their look from the other end of the room. “COULD YOU PLEASE NOT DISTURB? I HAVE A SOUL TO ATTEND”
“Uhm, we…uh…yes, OK.” intimidated, Shadow and Destro turn around and walk down the corridor to search for another room.

As Shadow and Destro close the door behind them, they see light shimmer from under another door further down. It is Calamity’s chamber which is still illuminated. The young mage has been plundering the storage of the “Faculty for Malevolent Artefacts” The faculty has been established after several new inventions of the infamous builder B.S. (short for bloody stupid) Johnson had been uncovered. There were many inventions of B.S. Johnson known to the wizards. Some of them have proved helpful like the beard trimmer, with which Modo kept unearthing dead tree trunks. There were obscure ones like the improved magician’s robe that kept running away from its bearer in unfortunate moments. And there were outright dangerous inventions like B.S. Johnson’s idea of a perfect teaspoon. After the one and only test run of the tea spoon, the two remaining survivors had to be hospitalized while a group of seventh level wizards operated a ranged teleport spell to banish it into the catacombs.
Ever since that incident, new discoveries from B.S. Johnson had failed to find volunteers to test them. “Unfortunately” Calamity sighs as he spreads his loot on his desktop. “I have no choice. I need to find something to solve this situation quickly.”
Calamity looks at the array of tools on his table as he hears a knock on his door. Considering the immanent danger for anyone present he yells out “Go away. I need silence for my experiment”. But to his dismay, the knocks keep persisting and even become stronger. Calamity sighs and decides to ignore them while examining the tools before him. But still he feels the presence of someone.
“You are here?”
“I AM.”
“I had not expected to die now.”
“THEN MAYBE YOU DON’T. THIS SITUATION IS NEW FOR ME AS WELL. BUT I KNOW WHEN MY PRESENCE IS REQUIRED.” Death replies while peeking over Calamity’s shoulder. “THOSE THINGS LOOK FUNNY. IS THIS A TOENAIL CLIPPER?”
“Possible…but wait a minute. How do you know what a toenail clipper is?”
“WHY SHOULDN’T I? THOSE THINGS ARE NOT A SECRET.”
“Maybe…but you have no toenails and I can’t imagine that you have approached someone because of a toenail clipper incident.”
Calamity looks at Death to await his reply, but to his horror he realizes that he had forgotten about his door. Shadow and Destro Yersul weren’t scared away and had broken open the door. With a loud noise it falls into its hinges, allowing the two wizards entry. With raised crossbows they enter the chamber, startling Calamity.
“No. Don’t come nearer. This is dange…oh, crap”
Before the eyes of Shadow and Destro Yersul, the toenail clipper suddenly grows several dozens of arms and blades, cutting around blindly. Unable to discard the item, Calamity is repeatedly stabbed by the twisted edges. As he falls to the floor dying, the arms rip itself loose from his flesh and crawl towards the intruders. Panic-stricken, Shadow and Destro back off and run away, leaving behind Death with the ethereal image of Calamity standing next to him.
“ACTUALLY THIS IS FAR MORE COMMON THAN YOU WOULD EXPECT. THOSE THINGS CAN BE DANGEROUS” Death remarks as he observes, the clipper fold itself together again. On top of Calamity’s corpse only a small metal stick with the image of the Omnian flag would be found later.

As Death leaves Calamity, he once again feels the compulsion of his duty.
“AGAIN?”
He produces the remaining three tinted hourglasses. Aegeus, Shadow and Destro Yersul’s names are inscribed in them and they all point towards a certain location. He snips his fingers and appears in the corner of a room one floor below. He sees a human in red mage robes scurry around his room, rummaging. After finding a magnifying glass, he returns to his desk while producing cackling sounds. The desktop of the wizard is empty, except for a huge tome chained to it. The book itself is closed but a sabre-toothed skull of blackened metal on the cover alone is enough to instil fear in the heart of any magic-user who knows it. The dreaded Necronomicon is lying on Aegeus’ desk, patiently waiting for the wizard to open it.
Normally, acquiring books from the library was sheer impossible because of the protective mannerisms of the Librarian. But when Aegeus had run into the Library and ripped the book out of its shelf, the orang-utan didn’t even attempt to stop him. Anyone dealing with that book voluntarily was better not to be stopped. The Librarian only hoped the retrieval of the book would be not too problematic.
The reason for the Necronomicon’s reputation is its enormous power. It is said to be the compendium of the most powerful spells ever known to wizards. Most of its spells are considered forgotten only because the tomes containing them are dripping of malevolent hunger, ready to pounce on a reader and literally drain their energy into them. After several incidents with lifeless hulls of students being found around the bookshelves, the most dangerous books have been moved to a separate section. But now one of them was here and it slowly becomes aware of its surroundings as it awakes of its decades of slumber. The hibernation would be over soon. The book feels the delicious mind of a wizard nearby. A young creative mind to fill the eternal hunger.
In front of the book, Aegeus makes himself comfortable and readies his lens to study the tome as he hears someone from behind. “When will I learn to lock my door” he curses and turns around only to see Shadow and Destro Yersul standing there with their Crossbows loaded.
“Aegeus…”
“What IS it? I want to study!” Ostentatiously, he grabs the cover and opens the book in the middle.
“We just wanted to ask if we could use your window. We want to use the Tower of Arts as target practice.”
“Wha…” Aegeus replies but he doesn’t get further. A compelling voice forces his head around and into the book. A horrid scream echoes through the small chamber as his eyeballs fuse themselves to the magic aura of the pages, draining his very mind into the pages. Alarmed by the proceedings, Shadow and Destro decide to better leave the corridor altogether and do their exercises from outside. They shut the door from outside locking it several times with a warding spell and run off, leaving behind the empty hull of Aegeus and a tome that has just become thicker by a few pages.

[Silkenfist]

Actions:
Aegeus: Self
Calamity: Self
Destro Yersul: Air
Rumda: Self
Shadow: Air

Possible Archchancellors: 2
Destro Yersul
Shadow

Certain Compost: 42
Aegeus
Akaziel
Alarra
alec
Angela
Atreyu the Masked Llama
Bookman
Calamity
Captain Fluffy
Captain van der Decken
Castaras
Cobra Ikari
Dark Corax
DarkLightDragon
Deckmaster
Ditto
Ezlo
faerwain
firepup
Fredricus
Gezina
Gnome Barbarian
heretic
Hyram Graff
Indurain
Ink
inky13112
Kewl Kat
Khantalas
Krursk
Lord Fullbladder
Lord Herman
Lord Magtok
Lucky
pingcode20
Rashnuk
Rumda
Sampi
Selrahc
Strategos
Thes Hunter
Zar Peter


The final showdown will happen between Shadow and Destro. Just send me your actions as soon as you have them.

[Shadow]

So, it's me against Destro now, huh?
Just like in Town.
When I'm there....

[edit] Oh yeah, and on that note, I will be returning to Town eventually and we will be continuing our fued, but for a while now I've been ay too busy to spend the hours focusing on any one thing to be any use in Town. The time that I spend on the boards is almost always spilt between posting here and doing something else. Time spent splitting my attention wouldn't be condusive to actually getting anything done in Town. But fear not, I will return.

[Castaras]

So, it's me against Destro now, huh?
Just like in Town.
When I'm there....

[edit] Oh yeah, and on that note, I will be returning to Town eventually and we will be continuing our fued, but for a while now I've been ay too busy to spend the hours focusing on any one thing to be any use in Town. The time that I spend on the boards is almost always spilt between posting here and doing something else. Time spent splitting my attention wouldn't be condusive to actually getting anything done in Town. But fear not, I will return.

Woo! Wait...what feud?

Eh, should be fun.

Now, who to cheer for? Hmm...

[Shadow]

Woo! Wait...what feud?

Eh, should be fun.

Now, who to cheer for? Hmm...

Check my sig and read up on Shadow in the Town.

And cheer for me.

Duh!

[Destro_Yersul]

So, it's me against Destro now, huh?
Just like in Town.
When I'm there....

[edit] Oh yeah, and on that note, I will be returning to Town eventually and we will be continuing our fued, but for a while now I've been ay too busy to spend the hours focusing on any one thing to be any use in Town. The time that I spend on the boards is almost always spilt between posting here and doing something else. Time spent splitting my attention wouldn't be condusive to actually getting anything done in Town. But fear not, I will return.

Good to hear! Destro's not in right now, but he's gotten more evil and murderous lately. This will hopefully be resolved soon, but if Shadow comes in in the middle of it it would make things very interesting. Very, very interesting...

I honestly never expected I'd get this far in one of these games. Looks like I've made all the right choices so far. Now, what to choose...

[DarkLightDragon]

Hehe, I'm awesome!

*looks at grudges*

Cooooooool!

[Ink]

Wowee, a Mexican standoff. Shoot each other, guys!

[Akaziel]

Heh... this game just keeps getting more and more interesting...

[Aegeus]

Oh, for crying out loud! There were five possible targets for every person to shoot and no-one shot me!

Anyway, looks like there's going to be a good old crossbow shootout.

[Destro_Yersul]

Dang, I hope I win this. *crosses fingers*

[Shadow]

Wowee, a Mexican standoff. Shoot each other, guys!
We did. Silky told us to resend our actions.

Dang, I hope I win this. *crosses fingers*
That's funny because I did the same thing in my PM to Silky.
*crosses fingers*

[Destro_Yersul]

We did. Silky told us to resend our actions.

Yep. Have to have a winner, apparently :smallbiggrin:.

[Silkenfist]

This is the Tower of Arts. Amidst the twisted structure of the Unseen University, it stretches into the air like a needle out of a crumpled pincushion. It has stood before the University was built and some wizards even believe it to be older than the world-bearing turquoise herself – although they never stated how this should be possible.
The monumental structure of the Tower has witnessed decades and centuries of magic being formed and twisted and reality itself being warped more than once in its closest vicinity The building had adapted itself to these circumstances by creating its own magical field. The morphological field, as the wizards call it, ensures the structural integrity of the Tower of Arts itself. But on the other hand, any other matter, that crosses the field, becomes warped and twisted in the very structure of its existence – like the wizard Selrahc did when he fell from the tower to reach the ground as an egg.
As a result of these dangers, there are few birds to be found around the tower. The only exceptions are the intelligent ravens that inhabit the apex of the tower. They have learned to detect and avoid the magical influences.
One of the ravens raises its head as it spreads its wings. Perfectly, it times the moment of its departure, raises a few feet in the air before it turns about to start a smooth dive past the thaumaturgical cliff. Then, on the peak of its trajectory, it lets out a rough croak as a crossbow bolt ruptures its belly and embeds itself in its guts. Uncontrolled, the raven begins to plummet to the ground.

“Nice shot.” Destro raises his head to offer Shadow a high five.
“Thanks, man. Those things are pretty easy to hit once you get the knack.”
“I guess…I would love to practice a bit more…but I only have one bolt left.”
“As well as I. You know what this means.”
“I know. There can be only one archchancellor and I have got too far to give it up.”
“Then we shall conduct this as short and simple as possible.” Shadow takes a handkerchief out of his robe and throws it into the air. “We shall shoot as soon as it hits the ground.”
Destro silently nods. Simultaneously, the two wizards load and draw their weapons, keeping their eyes on the handkerchief and their opponent. But even before the cloth had touched the ground, two sinews are suddenly released. With a loud twang both crossbows fire their bullets simultaneously. Frozen in time, the crossbow bolts are sent on their trajectory irreversibly.

“What a fine mess” the fine mouth articulates, while beneath the blindfold of the goddess, the wrinkles around her nose indicate a smile. “Looks like this move will remove both your figure and mine at once. I wonder what will happen now.”
“Well…” Fate looks around uncomfortably. The greater gods have assembled around the table again if only to watch Fate’s discomfort. “To be honest, I didn’t plan for that.”
“Ah…I would not have thought that.” In the Lady’s voice a fine trace of mockery can be sensed. “Allow me to fix this for you, then.” She waves a hand and…
…one blink of an eye later, Destro and Shadow look at each other, then at the two bullets between them. Exactly halfway between them, their projectiles had collided and fused into each other. Their crossbows still pointed at each other, they reach for their pockets vainly to find another bullet. Above them, the raven croaks once again in agony as it tries without success to stop its deadly fall.

“And now?” The Lady asks her adversary, still smiling.
“And now we will continue, my dear. That is, we will continue as soon as you and I have prepared for another round.”
“Oh, don’t bother. I am prepared. I am always prepared.”

Above the wizards, the raven lets out its dying breath as it hits the lower morphological field of the tower. With fading senses, it feels magical energy surge through it body and then nothing. In place of the raven, there is suddenly a plaid handkerchief falling to the floor. Struck by the wind resistance below, it opens up to reveal a crossbow bolt. The short wooden rod with sharpened metal tip tumbles out of the cloth and continues its way down separately. It rotates around its crosswise axis once before it impacts with its flat side – directly in the outstretched hand of Shadow.
Surprised, the wizard looks at the projectile, he has suddenly found in his hands. He shrugs of his puzzlement, though. Quickly, he feeds the bolt into his crossbow and shoots it at the baffled Destro Yersul. Only as the small rod pierces his ribcage and punctures his very heart, Destro realizes what has happened. As he falls to his knees helplessly, he lets out a quiet plead of denial.
“No. That can’t be. What is the chance?”

“About exactly one in a million.” the Lady, divine embodiment of it, replies. With gracile fingers, she removes Fate’s figure from the crude map of the university before she moves the small iconic figurine of Shadow into its very centre. “Victory for my champion. Let there be rejoicing among mortals.”
And there was.


Congratulations Shadow for winning Ready, Aim, Fire! #11


Actions:
Destro Yersul: Shadow
Shadow: Destro Yersul

Tiebreaker:
Destro Yersul: Air
Shadow: Destro Yersul


(only the latest actions are counted in the Hall of Fame)


Ready, Aim, Fire! #12 will start soon. Tomorrow (I hope), I'll have three options for you to choose a theme from. Signups will start then.

[Shadow]

Victory is mine!

[Castaras]

'Gratz Shadow.

* Breaks out wine *

Ghostly party time! :smallbiggrin:

[Cobra_Ikari]

Go Shadow! Woo!

[HyramGraff]

The mortals rejoice! Yay!

[Aegeus]

Fate vs. Chance: Quite a nice battle.

[Destro_Yersul]

DAMN! I knew I should have shot myself... All griping aside though, that was well played. Congrats man. :smallsmile: At least I got runner-up :smallbiggrin: