Wheel of Time MUD

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, and Age long past, a wind rose among the Caralain Grasslands. The wind was not the beginning, there are neither Beginnings nor endings to the turning of The Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning.

The wind blew through fields of grass as it approached the Braem Wood. It blew around a once thriving Stedding with its ancient trees. It blew through the forest of younger growth snatching up the yellowing leaves as it went. It blew through a small clearing in the woods filled with colorful wagons of all shapes and sizes. The wind picked up sounds of flutes and laughter as it swirls among the bright fires surrounding the encampment. Sounds of dogs barking and snarling fills the wind, and just as quickly as it began, the wind went, and with it, went the merriment.

Large creatures burst from the trees, strange creatures with the heads of animals and the bodies of overly large humans. The encampment erupted in mass confusion. The trollocs quickly overcame the defending dogs and set upon the people around the fires. The Tuatha’an had no defenses, the Way of the Leaf did not allow for such. People began screaming and falling to the trollocs’ blades. A small child huddled next to his mothers’ body. A large trolloc with the head of a bear showed his teeth in a hellish smile. The boy cried and trembled, but was too afraid to leave his mothers’ side. The trolloc reached the boy and lifted his weapon…

The Bear Headed trolloc burst into flame, smile still on his lips. A small party galloped into the now burning wagons. Men with color shifting cloaks lay about the remaining trollocs while a two women sat high on their horses. Wherever they looked, the trollocs burst into flames. In mere seconds the trollocs lie dead. The warders gathered the survivors. Each and every one staring at the women in awe, “ Aes Sedai…”

Rules -
1. NO EDITTING POSTS- ONCE YOU HAVE MADE A POST YOU MAY NOT EDIT IT. Any post editting may result in spontaneous combustion.
2. Day phases will be 48 hours and Night Phases will be 24 hours.
3. You must post at least once every Day Phase. Not posted for 2 consecutive Day phases will result in a warning message, a third day without a post and you will be deemed inactive. Do not post in the thread during a night phase, unless specifically enabled by your role.
4. You are not required to vote each day, however at the end of the Day period the player with the most lynch votes will be eliminated.
5. To vote for a player to be eliminated from the game please use BOLD and CAPITAL LETTERS. EX. LYNCH CARLIA
6. Night actions must be sent in via PM, Night actions may be changed as many times as you like up to 12 hours before the phase ends. If there is less than 12 hours until the start of the next day you will not be allowed to change you action. EX. The night ends at 8 am, no changes after 8 pm prior.
7. You may not quote me or another player in private messages or in the game thread.
8. Have fun !!

Those Among the Living (for now) -
Hasp
Astolfo
Riva
Avail
Luxas

The Dearly Departed -

Jael the Tuatha'an Villager has been found with his throat cut on Night 1.
Natalia the Beggar has withdrawn into the forest on Night 2.
Octavio the Draghkar has been lynched on Day 3.
Joolis the Gaidin was stabbed in the back on Night 3.
Terinor the Greyman has been lynched on Day 4.
Rig the Aes Sedai of the Blue Ajah turned Dragonsworn has been burned to death on Night 4.
Corey the Male Channeler has been lynched on Day 5.
Anor the Aes Sedai of the Red Ajah was stabbed to death on Night 5.
Mariel the Wolfbrother turned Dragonsworn was burned to a crisp on Night 5.
Aira the Tinker Thief turned Dragonsworn has been lynched on Day 7.

As the sun rises people in brightly colored garments begin to appear among the wagons. Looking sad and morose they begin to assess the toll of the trolloc attack. Dozens dead, and just a handful alive, Life must go on. The Song must be found.

Day One has begun and will end 8/11/18 8 am EST

Joolis steps over a few corpses with brightly colored clothes, though they were mostly stained red now. The acrid smell of burning wagons and singed trolloc hair sting his nostrils as he surveys the carnage. The tinkers do not fight, but even the bravest warriors can get cut down by these giant beasts. He shakes his head and walks toward a makeshift tent where he notices others have gathered around a cask of ale.

At the edge of the crowd huddled around a cask of ale, Terinor sits quietly. What do you say to a family that lost loved ones? What condolences could a person offer? Nothing can fill the emptiness.

Hasp walked around checking all of those that had been slaughtered. She had tried weavinf flows of Earth, Air, and Spirit but they were all too far gone. With a heavy sigh she stopped and bent down, adjusting her Yellow Shawl. She picked up a squirrel that seemed to have a broken hip. She weaved flows with one hand, directing thrm at the injured animal. With a loud shriek the squirrel looked up, jumped out her hands and ran way. A slight smile showed and she knew that there was work left to do.

Walking amidst the wreckage, Rig was studying the bodies of the trollocs. It almost seemed as if they appeared from nowhere, and not much information was to be gained by bodies burnt nearly to ash. Finally giving up, Rig decides to join the group around the cask of ale.

Corey pulls a hand full of acorns from his bright multicolored cloaked. He smiles towards Hasp as a sign of thanks and extends his hand towards to squirrel offering it a acorn. He then walks around the camp trying to access the loss. He joins the folk huddled around the cask. Corey takes a small sip and sits down, thinking what can we do to protect ourselves out here.

A gray haired man, wearing a bright yellow shirt and green pants with skin tanned and wrinkled from years in the sun, observes the bodies of the slain. He lifts an arm over the dead and whispers a final farewell, "I will find the song, or another will find the song, but the song will be sung this year or in a year to come. As it once was, so shall it be again, world without end."