I'm very sorry for the delay. I have become unexpectedly busy IRL, so I compiled this as quickly as I could. Please excuse the longer lynch vote period allotted.
Night 2The ship's Buccaneer was not amused at all.
He had fired a shot directly at his target, but all he heard was the sound of a metal shield shattering. He feared that his target may soon retaliate, and fled the scene almost immediately, knowing that the blast of his rifle must have attracted attention from people in the vicinity. As he turned his back, however, he felt the icy tip of a sharp dagger break his skin, piercing his side with a deep wound. As he collapsed on the floor, he heard the sound of jingling coins amidst the footsteps that faded away.
The buccaneer's consciousness slowly faded away as one of the ship's doctors arrived at the scene.
The Boatswain idly wandered the deck of the ship. After one night of fruitless investigation, he decided that any possible information he could acquire was not worth the effort of carefully monitoring a single fellow crewmember. Certainly, his character was supposed to possess extraordinary skill in marlinespike seamanship and discreet observation, but he heavily detested the expectations that came with the attributes. As a result, he idled away half of the night in frustration and insomnia, cursing the heavens for consigning him to such a fate.
Just as he was about to drift off into sleep, the boatswain noticed a shadowy figure creep up the trapdoor to his right. He immediately stood up and threw a nearby grappling hook at the silhouette, yelling out: "Which trait'ous dog be climbin' up at this time o' the night? Show yerself!"
Unfortunately, it was not very effective. The mysterious figure had anticipated the attack and taken a defensive stance. The rope curled around his arm and the grapple harmlessly dropped to the ground.
Before the boatswain was able to react, the attacker's masked face appeared in front of him. The boatswain looked down and saw the hilt of two massive scimitars emerging from his chest. With both of his lungs punctured,
EzTerix was only able to mutter one phrase before the burden of a deteriorating consciousness dropped him to the floor.
"Shit."
StarBlue fled for her life. She had planned to visit her friend later that night, but a sharp pain in her left arm and the absence of feeling in the limb told her that something very bad happened. While the dismemberment was too much of a shock to register, the sense of danger nevertheless persisted as she scrambled through the dark interior below deck.
Suddenly, StarBlue felt as though she was flying. Her field of vision rapidly spun, and the sense of up and down disappeared as the world turned into a swirl of colored patches. As
StarBlue's head dropped to the floor, she was only able to discern the rough image of a pair of black leather boots before her eyes closed for the last time.
Day 3 has begun! Please post all lynch votes before 11:59 PM EST, January 6, 2011!(If you have run out of PM space, PLEASE inform me by posting in this thread! As a reminder to players, in the case of a vote tie, all tied parties are lynched.)
None.