NPF Mafia: 8-Bit Edition SP

[CallmePrismatic]

Tentacles, claws, paws, and more converge on jeremiahcron, and quickly he is noosed with an all natural forest rope, because you might be monsters but you have pride in your home dagnummit.

As his body swings back and forth in the wind, a small blue slime appears and looks around, uninhibited by Matoya's magic. "Oh, dreadfully sorry, I'm in the wrong game universe...hey, why did you guys kill a vanilla-monster, town aligned...maybe this game's rules are different? Oh well, anybody know where I can find a God-bird? No, ok, I'll just be off then."

As you stare in stunned silence you realize that you have killed one of your own, and sullenly return to your homes, hoping that you aren't the next victim of the night.

IT IS NOW NIGHT 2. DO NOT POST. SEND IN YOUR NIGHT ROLES IF YOU HAVE THEM.
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As the daylight breaks through the thickets and bushes once more, you are relieved to bask in the forest's natural glow, at least until the sleep seeps out of you and you come to grips with the horrific situation presented from the previous Night's dealings.

The first body you come across by smell alone, the familiarly awful stench of XTREEM DEW filling your nostrils. Apparently it filled The Wizard Who Did It, as his remains, soaked and acidized as they are, are sitting in the largest pool of the liquid, dripping bone and flesh intermingling with the concoction while not necessarily making it any worse. A few feet from the scene is a book with a 'Twiddy' bookmark, and after picking up the tome bound by the flesh of the insane you discover the title to be Unspeakable Horrors: Or How I Heard the Unpronounceable Names and Succumbed to the Tentacles (Forward by Pat Roberston). Based on the evidence you conclude that he was a cult initiate, cult-aligned.

Further down, but no less smelly, is the corpse of secretskull, scoured by Fire and Lit. Before you can begin to search for his alignment you discover the giant message "Here Lies secretskull, vanilla forest monster, town-aligned" written in the juices of his own internal organs. You're actually quite amazed at the mileage you can get from an ordinary brain.

Finally you come across a foot sized crater, although the foot seems to be crater sized itself, and a small shriveled body near the toe cavity. The figure of Intern Nin slowly raises himself up, his straw-yellow hat and blue robes tinged with the unsightly visage of toe jam. You soon relaize that he isn't raising himself up willfully, just that the foot fungus that seems to have consumed his enitre being is stiffening. His personal belongings tumble out of his clothes, spell components and knives rolling across the ground, along with a coffee cup proclaiming that he is the "World's #1 Serial Killer".

The carnage settled, you begin the Day.

IT IS NOW DAY 3. 18 PLAYERS REMAIN. 10 TO LYNCH. NO DEADLINE YET.