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Day 0: The Peach Tree is Watered
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“Finally, I’ve finished,” said she, as she contently sat in her favorite peach tree. She could see the entire town from her vantage point, from the lights flickering on the main street to the bonfire in the town square. She could hear their voices, even at her great distance, and feel their happiness. “Seemed such a pity, to let this beautiful land go to waste. It cried out to me.” She looked down at the earth below, smiling like a mother would at a child. “You needed me, didn’t you? You wanted love, appreciation, even attention. Are you happy?”

The Mana Goddess, Ezra, was silent, but focused, listening intently. “Is something wrong, beloved? What ails you still? Why do you still sigh?” She jumped down from the tree, hovering just slightly off the ground so as not to crush a single insect or blade of grass. “Is it lingering misery from your last inhabitants? Why did they abandon you? You seem such a kind, welcoming presence…” She knelt, placing her ear close to the roots of the tree. “What is it?” She closed her eyes. “Is that smell… blood?”

Ah, pity the poor goddess. Were it not extraordinary sight and sensitive hearing she’d been gifted with, she may have been given a better sense of smell. Only now did she smell it- the smell of blood, of rotting flesh, of death itself. She looked, and saw it- a long, limber creature in a ragged black cloak. It stood upright, straight as a nail, but with his head hunched forward. She shivered- she couldn’t see his face, but she could feel his hateful glare. He moved ever closer, slowly, like a reed blowing in the wind, not looking at her or anything.

“This,” the beast whispered in an inhuman voice, “is my land.”

“You weren’t using it,” she pointed out with a frown. She straightened up, facing it at her full (albeit small) height. “I haven’t seen you before. Why weren’t you here when I was restoring it?”

“I can only exist… in a human.” He looked up, and she could see his eyes were blood red. “If there are humans, I will live… you brought humans… you brought death.”

“I don’t fear you!” She replied carelessly, tossing her hair back. “I’ll go warn the townspeople. I’ll tell them exactly who you are, and you’ll be exorcised!” She jumped into the air, pushing it out of her way to keep herself aloft, but as soon as she turned to head towards the town, a net came down over her head. She shrieked and struggled against the wires, as someone else approached. “Let me out of this!”

“Sorry, goddess, no can do.” The Saboteur, all in black with a jester’s cap, grinned at her as he pointed at the talisman on the net. “You know what they say: the tree of liberty is watered with a tyrant’s blood. You like trees, doncha?” His wide grin was sinister and wicked, and she realized what was about to happen.

“Your life,” growled the Reaper, “annoys me.”

The goddess, trapped like a mouse, could only scream as the Reaper lifted his sickle, and the Saboteur could only laugh.

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It was the next morning that the priests discovered her. They went to her favorite tree in tandem to pray, and found her head stuck on a branch. Her limbs were sliced and mangled, and now dangled from the tree’s limbs in lieu of their normal pink produce. Her torso was nowhere to be found. Both priests, young and old, could not bring themselves to weep, but only to stare.

“So,” the young priest murmured. “It has begun.”

The old priest nodded.

“I have heard of this before,” the young priest added pensively.

The old priest nodded.

“Our lambs must be vigilant.”

The old priest nodded again. The young priest glanced at him. “Do you have peanut butter stuck to the roof of your mouth again?” The old priest nodded fervently. The young priest simply shook his head. “Let us spread the news. We will stop this menace, one way or another.”

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Ear by ear, the word spread about the death of the strange woman by the peach tree. Some had heard more details than others, but all the townspeople knew was that someone was dead in a terrible way. The whispers began to spread, but there were two ears working tandem with one voice to spread the truth.

“You know that they’re going to kill again, right?” The Gossip whispered through the curtains in City Hall. Her face was hidden from all, but she was heard loud and clear. “I’ve got eyes and ears everywhere, dearies. I’ll tell you what to look for…”

People nodded and murmured sheepishly in assent. Only one set of ears heard another whispering voice.

“On your knees,” growled the Harlot, pushing her whip against the nose of her victim. “You know the deal, don’t you?” She grinned wickedly as he bowed his head and licked her feet. “This town is no different from any other. Get rid of a few obstacles, and people like us could rule this place. All you have to do is exactly what I tell you…”

Even more, three sets of ears had perked up to the cry. The news that had dissolved into whispers was akin to an alarm bell. They peeked out of their secret base before shutting the door (and what foresight, to have installed a door in their treehouse!) and beginning their plans.

“If people are really going to be killed…”

“And there’s something we can do about it…”

“Then we have to act.” The three of them clasped hands, swearing a pact on their self-given duty.

It was, however, the ears who paid no attention and the voices that matched them that were to be worried about most. One was heard only laughing madly, and the other could be heard to say:

“Your lives… annoy me.”
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Your hostess/Mana Goddess has been slaughtered... and you're next!

Reaper and Saboteur, pick your kills!
Gossip, Harlot, who do you want to hear about?
Vigilantes, who are you protecting?
Everyone else, who are the murderers? Vote like hell!


All roles must PM me by 10pm EST. Everyone else, post your votes by 11pm EST! Don't forget to include the number of the person you're voting for!

Updates will be around midnight EST. Sorry, guys, but I work nights.

Good luck, kids!

(PS: Those of you who have not checked your role PMs, please do so now. Otherwise, some dice are gonna re-roll...)

I #16 flamingdove vote for #18 Druki

I, #7, KeJoRo, would like to inform you of the base properties of ancient, primitive ginger ale, dating far back to 23 BCE.

Back then, there were 23 ingredients used to create this beverage. Based on these two remarkable coincidences, I have decided it can mean one thing and one thing only: our resident animator, #23 Namuie, is guilty beyond reasonable doubt!

#21 Rasani votes for #22 Gynne

'cause Mad Scientist.

I, Cherry Ave #10, vote for #22 Gynne

Lucky #13, Alpha, for #3 Shadow

because his avatars are always too awesome. Making the rest of us look bad.

Number 12 Buzzkid24, will use this power to try and vote out the SCUM living in our town! Therefor I will vote for number 10, Cherry Ave the Peach farmer. Because EVERYONE KNOWS "peach farmer" is code for crack dealer, and I can't have people stepping up on my turf! talk2hand

#14 Kozmo6 votes #11 Bellecat