Sheriff Hutchinson cleared his throat. "Well then. If we can have a show of hands...."
William Hellsnake [ 0]: Ethan Hayles, Ty Callahan (Eternal Lurker), Chad Hutchins, Seamus O'Malley (Excal), Moses Bike, Kyle Handley (Hunter Sopko)
Nikolai Kolmogorov [ 0]: Sam Hargreaves
Kyle Handley (Hunter Sopko) [2]: Jack Daniels, Chad Hutchins, Ronald Dale (Bardiche)
Seamus O'Malley (Excal) [1]: Bill Hellsnake, Pietro, Bill Hellsnake, Sam Hargreaves
Pietro [1]: Ronald Dale (Bardiche), Seamus O'Malley (Excal)
Ronald Dale (Bardiche) [ 0]: Peyton Hadley, Ethan Hayles
Ty Callahan (Eternal Lurker) [8]: Peyton Hadley, Moses Bike, Jack Daniels, Martin Andrews, Pietro, Nikolai Kolmogorov, Nathan Greaves, Ethan Hayles, Moses Bike
Peyton Hadley [ 0]: Nathan Greaves
Moses Bike [2]: Ty Callahan (Eternal Lurker), Seamus O'Malley (Excal), Kyle Handley (Hunter Sopko), Bill Hellsnake
Chad Hutchins [ 0]: Nathan Greaves
Samuel Hargreaves [ 0]: Kyle Handley (Hunter Sopko)
No vote placed: Kyle Handley (Hunter Sopko)
---
"Well, the lodge of the Order of Unseen Wisdom is some darn rugged territory, but lordy knows it's not uncrossable. Horses are actually a pretty good way to get there," noted farmer Hayles.
"And we never see you around at night, anyway! What have you been up to?" Jeb Cress, proprietor of Rosie's, knew the night habits of the townfolk pretty well.
"Always struttin' by himself, never joining any of our good organizations. Something positively anti-social about that." The widow Avil was a firm believer in the power of civic organizations.
"You were just jealous of Mr. Hutchins, weren't you!" shouted the shopkeeper Andrews.
"And nothing out of his mouth has made a damn lick of sense. Christ." Jack Daniels could be a persuasive force when the conditions were right, it seemed.
"You've got it all wrong! This is the problem with humankind," the stablemaster growled. "Shoulda stayed in the mountains last night, I see." He paused, seeming to consider his options. "I'll go quietly. I could make you pay, but I think you're all idiots, not evil. Let's just get this over with." The journalist, Nathan Greaves, stood in the back, taking notes on this town's unusually speedy justice system furiously.
Sherrif Hutchison stood up. "Someone fetch Dr. Gottlieb from the Sanitarium, and Reverend Jones from Paugus Mill. Can't have an execution without a priest & a doctor. It's a shame you don't work with humans, Dr. Hargreaves. I bet your fee would be less than that quack Gottlieb." As people began to leave the room, Callahan's head dipped, eyes softly closed as he clutched his leather belt and began mumbling unintelligibly.
---
"Any last words? Last requests?" Rev. Jones spoke in his usual monotone.
His muttered... curse? prayer? finally ceasing, Callahan stood with the rope around his neck. "Yah. Cremate my body. Clothes 'n' possessions, 'specially. Family tradition 'n' all that."
And there was the usual thud as the latch released, and a sickening crack as Tyrone's neck was broken.
---
"Ja, ja, ist tot. He's dead, dead, dead! No problems sir, no problems at all. I'll be collecting my fee now." Dr. Gottlieb stepped back from the body.
"Well. Guess there ain't no reason to deny his request for a cremation." Sheriff Hutchins put his hands at his hips. "I'm a practical man. No need to drag this body all around. Let's just move it a bit over and burn it on the spot."
Young deputy Webster moved to pick up the body, then pulled back suddenly, with a puzzled look on his face. He moved closer in to Tyrone's body again, picking up the clothes and taking a closer look at them... before shrieking hideously. "No, we'll burn the body here! NOW! Give me that!" Webster took the match pack, lit the entire set on fire, then tossed it onto the body, before scrambling to find more accelerants to toss on the body.
"What... what?! What got into that boy! He might damage the gallows!" Hutchison had a confused look on his face, before quickly trying to pull the body at least somewhat to the side himself. As it happened, any kindling or gasoline didn't seem to be needed... the body caught fire quite impressively, burning with a strange glow. And kept burning. For far longer than it should have taken, with a strange flickering light.
Webster just sat to the side, shaking his head. "That belt... that belt wasn't no leather. No sir. Leather ain't warm to the touch... it ain't alive."
"Pietro, I need some of your health tonic. Now."
Tyrone Callahan, Town Bulletproof Shadow, has been lynched! (Immune to normal nightkills. Immune to trackers and watchers; trackers and watchers who attempt are informed subject is immune to them.)
----
I have received a request for an all-flavor night post. So that there isn't alarm in the thread when it happens, this is approved. The general prohibition remains, though; if you'd like to join in clear it with me first.
It is now Night 1. You have 24 hours, but due to my work schedule, more like ~28 hours to get your night actions in.