[EvilTom]
Times are pretty good. You're certainly in a lucrative enough business. You're a made man of the Manzoni family, based out of New York... but that doesn't mean they don't have dealings elsewhere. There aren't many Italians in Boston - the Paddies run that show - but they're open-minded enough to be willing to work with their fellow Catholics when the price is right. As it happens, the Manzonis have some good government connections across the border in Quebec, where liquor production & transport is legal. And it's not like the wild Canada-New Hampshire border is well-patrolled. You've made good business shepherding shipments of liquor south into Boston, and sometimes all the way to New York.
It doesn't stop there, either. To further cut down on transit times, you've been in charge of moving some of the stills southward. As it happens, Marbury is almost perfect. It's an insular little town that few take notice of, and people let mind its own business. Plus, it's right next to a National Park where most people aren't allowed to visit! What could be more perfect than the government itself helping protect a bootlegging operation? And it's not like you're afraid of any of the silly legends about the dangers in the mountains... right?
Business has been good... maybe even a little too good. You run a fine side-business supplying Rosie's Country Inn with booze, and also help supply Abraham's Sundries (where Martin Andrews, aka Shale, works) with a perfectly legal grape juice "health tonic" (warning: keep refrigerated or it will turn into wine!). You don't want to draw attention to Marbury and make it the "get drunk here" capital of central New Hampshire, but since you're taking the lion's share of the profits here personally rather than sharing them with the family, it's hard to resist the temptation to sell as much as you can.
As for any personal secrets? Well. Despite your avowedly mercantilistic nature and genuine desire to rake in the money for the Manzonis, who've always been good to you... you're actually a died-in-wool socialist. Inherited from your parents, who were Italian anarchists who helped plan the assassination of the vile King Humbert II ("The Good" as the fawning conservatives called him), and had to leave Italy for America as a result. But you're actually far more pacifistic than your parents; you really buy into the whole brotherhood-of-man deal, and are sure that once everyone discovers the truth about socialism and the inherent dignity of mankind, the entire world will live together in a harmonious utopia. To that end, you spend your money on charities for the poor and supporting the budding Socialist Party in Boston and New York. You even have some pamphlets on hand that you've considered trying to spread in Marbury, just... the American countryside seems far less receptive to the message of socialism than the cities. Well, maybe you'll give spreading the gospel of Marx a shot. The true gospel, mind, not the silly dictatorship Russia has.
Everything took a dramatic turn for the worse two weeks ago, though. You left your associate Patrick Franchetti - an amiable Irish-Italian American who was your main contact with the Boston mob - in charge of running the still up in the mountains. A simple task that he'd never screwed up since you moved the stills in three months ago. Yet when you visited the stills, tired of waiting for him, there was no trace of him at all. None whatsoever. And yet the stills were untouched! ...it's not like Pat to just run off. Something must have... kidnapped him? ...killed him?
You finished at least half the batch yourself and drove to Boston to see if he returned on his own, but no such luck. You've returned to Marbury to find out what happened to him... and suddenly what seemed quaint before is now sinister. What malice lurks behind old widow Avil's eyes? What were those "civic organizations" like the Order of Unseen Wisdom really up to? Why does that 6-year old girl mockingly play hopscotch while Patrick lies moldering in an unmarked grave somewhere? The answer is obvious. They're all in on it. They're all guilty. They're the reason socialism isn't succeeding in America. This town is a terrible nest of evil... now, to distinguish the "extra evil" parts from the merely normal-evil parts, and punish them appropriately.
TL;DR
You are Town Cop! ... well. Town Paranoid Cop. Mod-guaranteed sanity.
* Each night, you may investigate one target. I will then tell you they are Scum. Because they are. Everyone's out to get you.
* So why bother? Well. There may be other side-effects of the investigation, though if there are, you don't know about them.
* While, should you die, the fact that you are paranoid (and knew that you were paranoid) will be revealed in the flip, rolecops will merely see you as a Cop.
* HIDDEN: Strips Docfather permanently had he investigated Excal, and would have sent noisy messages about "Someone has investigated you and gotten a SCUM result!" to any scum he investigated, who would hopefully freak out and treat him as a larger threat than he was.
Comments: Pretty much vanilla. Shame he didn't get a chance to freak out the scum team with his side effect. I do respect EvilTom's attempt to draw a Mafia NK... just... things had degenerated far enough that had Bardiche not shot him, he would have been the D3 lynch for sure. ESPECIALLY had he tried to explain why he got no useful result on N2.
--------------
[Magetastic]
February 11, 1928. A night you won't forget any time soon. The case was bog-simple - a wanna-be mafioso jumping bail. His daddy was a professor at Miskatonic University, so you figured the odds were good he might try and at least visit his family. Looked like nothing at their house, though, so you headed off to wait around the dad's offices... and wait. Huh, so posters about going to a talk given by a returning professor who'd been part of some excavation in British Iraq? ...whatever. Maybe you could get time for a quick snooze if you went over toward the shed with the crates from the expedition. Yeah, it doesn't seem like that boy's going to be about today anyway. You saw some scuttering about in the crates... insects? Huh, not entirely surprising. Well, naptime.
...zzz... huh, what's that odd feeling in your nose? As if.. something's... moving up it... ack!
KUŠU BARULTAG. UR MENANURAŠA GUR. Of course! Awake, you immediately threw yourself on your knees, for this means "My dog chain is now upon you and you will crawl. By the crown of heaven and earth, you will bow down before your master." After about two minutes of shoving your face into the ground and offering obeisance to your mysterious new master, you heard "
NAMGAMEA NEÐA," which obviously means "Should there not be peace? Rest, gather strength." You were unconscious within seconds.
When you woke up about 12 hours later, it seemed that the... presence... in your head had grown more accustomed to you. Still, you've had an... entirely new set of priorities ever since the day you became slave to the cockroach that crawled up your nose on February 11. You researched the expedition that had brought the crates over, and as best you can tell, the roach is a holdover from a bygone era thousands of years ago as a psychic overlord of the ancient Sumerian civilization. Somehow, the roach was sealed in a collapse of one of its palaces. This foolish Miskatonic archaeology professor had unsealed this grave threat, and now the roach wants to... well you're not entirely sure what it wants to do, but "rule the world" seems almost like the safest option.
Some oddities. You don't know Ancient Sumerian, but it doesn't matter as you somehow understand it anyway... but not quite all? Location names, most notably, don't seem to "translate" at all. You're not sure if the roach is even that familiar with the American continent, leading to commands like
GABAAL ÐU NABI DU AKKAD ("Seek out New Akkad; so let it be."). The roach is also thousands of years behind the times, and seems to ignore railroads, guns, the telegraph, etc. Its orders to you have been outright bizarre at times, not that you had much choice about complying with "Excavate this Ziggurat immediately" upon seeing the Chrysler Building in New York. On the bright side, the roach gives you... power. Certainly enabled you to deal with the cops asking you what you were doing with a shovel in the basement. The roach's power is pretty general and helps at really anything; notably, you barely seem to need to sleep anymore (or at least you don't notice the ill effects). You have superhuman endurance and physical might. By invoking the roach as you speak, YOU CAN SPEAK LIKE THIS and cow people - you can cheerfully intimidate even the toughest mafia thug. Though your bounty hunting has been... distracted, to say the least, by the new missions the roach is constantly giving you, the roach's abilities have made catching bounties considerably easier, at least.
Most recently, you were taking a light snooze when you were suddenly awakened at 4 AM with
NIZU-PA NAMKUR-LA DU AORAKO, which means "Seek out the Altar of the Dark One - Aorako." While you of course agreed whole-heartedly and knew that finding this altar was a vital task that must be undertaken without delay... this still didn't help you have any idea of where to look. Perhaps realizing this, you suddenly could see some kind of aerial view, as if from a biplane... a circular stone altar, set next to sweeping mountains, with small towns to the south. Research of the maps at the Boston Public Library has made you come to the conclusion that the mountains you saw fit the description of the White Mountains of New Hampshire, and that the towns must have been Marbury and Paugus Mill. Well, that settles that. You must go to Marbury and investigate this altar. If it's like any of the other sites the roach has sent you to before, you'll get some new instructions on what to do once you find it.
Of course, not getting killed by whatever's going on in this town seems a pretty high priority too, and who knows, this whole... incident... with the murder might shake some facts loose from the townspeople about this Aorako.
As for your powers. As noted above, they're pretty general, but in-game, this means three things. You're incredibly suspicious (a Miller), Bulletproof (good luck killing you via normal meanings), and can also raise the dead... at least on the nights of a new moon.
Oh, and one other thing. You have figured out one bit of freedom from the roach. If you get drunk - really, really drunk - the roach's influence fades, and you don't feel any particular need to heed his commands. It's something you took advantage of on the night of October 23, and you're pretty sure you didn't kill anyone.
TL;DR
You are Town Bulletproof / Miller / Reviver ! Pretty much a necromancer.
* You are immune to normal nightkill attempts.
* You return "scum" to sane cops.
* You may revive someone on the night of the new moon, the height of your power - that would be Night 3. However, the stars are fickle. After Night 2 / at the beginning of Day 3, I will tell you either "The stars are right" or "The stars are silent." If the stars are right, the person you revive will lose whatever role they had, but they will become a vanilla townie again and be normal in all respects. If the stars refuse to cooperate, you will instead create a degenerate abomination. The person you revive will be voteless and disintegrate back into dust at the end of Day 4. They will, however, be able to talk on Day 4, so that's something.
** Some people may not be legal targets for revival - I'll tell you who, if so. Modkills / ragequits notably are not revivable. Lynch victims generally are revivable.
** In-game, there is a certain condition that will determine if "The stars are right." It is not random.
Comments: Suspicious roles like this where you don't know what exactly you can promise I think keep town honest - sometimes, really scummy "give me time" claims are actually true. Hellsnake was a really strong role - confirmed townies are awesome, and Hellsnake nearly confirms himself as well, which was balanced by being a Miller and not knowing how good his revival was. Making it balance on if scum took an early lynch was basically a self-correcting tool to try and make it less swingy. Had Hellsnake lived, he'd have nigh-assured Town reached Day 4 even with 3 mislynches + Bardiche hitting mostly town.
Flavor Comments: I stole this from "The Shab al-Hiri Roach." Play that game! It's a fun party game with storytelling! You're a bunch of professors jockeying for position and reputation at a college while also struggling with the question of whether to snort a psychic roach up your nose for ultimate power!
---------------
[[Bobbin Cranbud]]
The past you suggested works fine for me. Feel free to add other touches to it as appropriate; I've added a bit to the end. For completeness' sake...
Peyton was in a production of The King in Yellow, playing the role of the King. He was so disturbed by the way the role seemed to subsume his personality even in rehearsals that he literally broke his leg to get out of performing in the show. His understudy took his place on opening night... and no one emerged from the theater alive.
Since the incident, Peyton hasn't been able to bring himself to go on stage. He is living off his meager savings as he obsessively investigates the occult. You've been at it for a year... chasing down a lot of leads, most of them going nowhere, but a few which actually seemed to be real. You've even been able to, in your own way, help out, you think. Notably, there was that time you sealed an invisible monster that had been terrorizing the countryside, and the one where you found the secret behind a haunted mansion. (Read: Two of the intro adventures to the CoC RPG which you've probably played!) You've learned that dabbling in magic has serious consequences, but sometimes there is no choice. You've learned a Flesh Ward spell, which you've convinced yourself you'll only cast once no matter what. You figure that should be plenty regardless, and you've seen what happens to people who dabble too much in the Mythos.
You're in Marbury on a tip that a supernatural killer is hiding here. You suspect from overheard questions that Nathan Graves is doing the same. Your hopes are not high of this going anywhere, though, as you aren't able to track down where this rumor came from at all, and this isn't the kind of rumor that would exactly spread easily. Where are the bodies, if so? And if not, how do people know he or she is hiding here? You figured you'd give the town a look then leave in a day if nothing happened. Well, something happened. You don't know what this Jon Hutchins was up to, but this "Order of Unseen Wisdom" sounds like no good to you.
TL;DR
You are Town One-Shot Bulletproof Bodyguard! You can help people out and take the hits they can't. Hopefully.
* You are immune to the first normal nightkill attempt made on you this game. Once you've been targeted once, this immunity will go away. (In other words, if both a doctor and a nightkill target you, you'll still lose the bulletproof.)
* You may choose one person to guard each night. Any normal nightkills that would have targeted them will target you instead. Neither the person who initiated the nightkill nor the person you guarded will be informed of your action. This does not interfere or interact with other roles that target the person.
* Be warned that certain types of nightkills might bypass either or both your powers.
Comments: Cranbud's character was the classic investigator, and worked fine for me. Easy to sneak in any power he rolled up, too, via magic. With a mix of good and evil characters on both sides - albeit mostly good on scum, and mostly shady on town - Cranbud's character was probably the most straight-up good guy. Sorry I didn't write more lines for you, by the way, was just nervous about writing too much on somebody else's RPG character. I know how I am with mine!
-------------
[[Makkotah]]
August 28, 1907. You, Jon Hutchins, and Barnaby Miller up in the mountains at your favorite spot, near the standing stones. "We'll all be away, but... let's swear to return here every year." You carved some mementos into the rocks, including "Jack Jon Barn Forever." Marbury Senior High was only blueprints and an idea back then, so boarding school was the only option for those who wanted to go beyond 8th grade.
1911. You attend both Jon and Barn's marriages, serving as the best man to both of them. You knew that you'd never stop teasing Jon for the amazing miracle of Edna giving birth to
Chad Hutchins (Sir Alex) a mere 5 months after the marriage - truly an act of God! Heh heh.
May 1, 1917. The favorite spot in the mountains, near the standing stones. "Class I for the draft is 18-31. Even at 24 we're all still prime draft material. Let's join on our own terms... that way we'll all still be together, right? The Krauts won't know what hit 'em."
October 31, 1918, somewhere in the Argonne Forest. Barn's wheezes grew more and more irregular, and you practically have to carry him to keep him moving. Jon led the way, occasionally consulting his stained and ripped map. "There's supposed to be a hermit somewhere around here that even the Germans left his house completely untouched. He's supposed to be a healer of last resort. We've gotta try it, the corpman's dead. And... my French is better than yours, so let me do the talking." You were too tired to protest.
Dawn, November 1, 1918. "No! Jack! Don't!" Jon had obviously lost his nerve. As if this was easy for you. No, the timing had not been "bien," as the hermit suggested, it was bad, mal, very mal. Whatever this red-eyed monstrosity was, it wasn't Barn... or it wasn't Barn enough. Not anymore. You took aim with your M1917 BAR... and squeezed the trigger. You'll figure out what to tell his wife later.
April 4, 1921. A surprise... Jon has finally come home? And he's acting like nothing ever went wrong, either. He gave you a great bear hug upon seeing you. "It's been too long, Jack! I can't wait to tell you what I've discovered from traveling the world. It's deep, but I think I really understand the truth about the universe now. Things... are going to change around here." Jon joined the Order of Unseen Wisdom shortly thereafter, convinced you to join with him, and suggested some new rites and ceremonies to add that he'd learned from his travels.
August 10, 1924. "Chad's looking real bad... is a recurrence of the Spanish flu? The doc's not sure... then again... there is that other option..." Jon's voice trails off into silence.
August 19, 1924. The funeral. "It is with great regret that what the Lord gives with one hand, he takes with the other. While our hearts are gladdened with Chad's sudden recovery, we must accept that the Lord in his wisdom also saw fit to call his dear mother Edna home to Him, and we must not forget in our sorrow that she too shall live everlastingly in the Glory of the Lord." The look on Jon's face as the minister read the eulogy was... inscrutably blank.
April 21, 1928. The Order lodge. Jon was furious. "You can't leave now! You know that the May-Eve ceremony is in a week!" The argument lasted a full hour. "Eh, go on, ya washed-up drunk. Come back when you've sobered up and found your courage again. It's not like you're worth anything to anyone else." The funny thing is, you actually were sober for that argument, and the only way you'd been getting through the normal ceremonies before was with liberal application of moonshine.
October 23, 1928. So Jon's called you to the lodge? Surprised he was able to swallow his pride. "Look, truth is, I'm going to need you for the ceremony this Hallow's Eve, Jack. You took the oath, the true oath. I'll do whatever's necessary to make it worth your while. This is too important to fail." Huh, was his new favorite disciple,
Martin Andrews (Shale), not up to the task? You pressed him for details. "Well. You know the truth of it, Jack. It is the eternal law of this world that blood must be paid for with blood. Even the Christian Bible says so. Hebrews, 9:22. I tried to open the gate just two weeks ago, but that bootlegger I found prowling around our special place at the standing stones was clearly insufficient. We'll need more, much more to finish the ritual properly. Settle the bargain, and all." You'd read the books he'd brought from abroad back in 1922, and you knew damn well which ritual he was talking about now, and why he'd need expert support for it.
That's when you suddenly pointed out the window in alarm, and he turned to look.
Then you stabbed him in the back with his own ceremonial dagger he'd left on the table.
Asshole.
Well, you probably saved the town from disaster, though you doubt they'll appreciate you for it, as you'll probably live the rest of your life in jail if you admit to saving everyone. And you're not sure just how far open the gate inched if Jon already tried the ritual two weeks ago. Something might already have been freed.
And now... it's time to get drunk. Really, really drunk.
TL;DR
You are Town Miller! Being the actual killer on "Night 0" makes you pretty suspicious, even if you have no plans for further murders.
* You return opposite results to cops - so "scum" to sane cops and "town" to insane cops.
Comments: Role power: Booby prize. Flavor: Winnar. I had always intended the Miller to be the murderer, but was afraid I'd have to switch it up if somebody wildly inappropriate rolled it up (like Peyton or Nikolai).
------------------
[Bardiche]
You're... Ronald Dale. Yeah. Dale. That sounds right. You just need to stretch a bit, walk around some, get a feel for things... man.
Worst. Hangover. Ever.
Your head is pounding like a drum; that moonshine must have been a bad batch. What happened last night? What happened recently, for that matter? You can't even recall drinking the damn stuff. Where are you and what are you doing here... oh, right. Marbury. To.. to write something. Your novel! Yeah, that's it. What was it about again? ...it was... uh... something. But it's not like you were getting anywhere on it anyway. Scenic retreat your foot.
You absentmindedly open a curtain to take a look around outside, maybe admire some of that scenery. ... what? You're taken aback by the greenish meadows and evergreens in the background. It felt like you were expecting a cactus or rock formations or something like that. Were you in the desert recently? You... can't recall. Maybe.
Christ. This day is horrible so far. Maybe you just need coffee, and lots of it. Hoover's the Republican nominee for President? What an awful choice. He'll screw things up, you're sure of it. ...don't see much else familiar, though. None of these local New Hampshire politicians ring a bell. ...wasn't there somebody named Monica in the news lately? You don't see anything on that, though.
A look at the calendar brings another wave of nausea. It's... October 24? Which means you only have 8 days until... November 1. A pit forms in your stomach at the thought. November 1st is bad... darkness... something horrible.
Are you forgetting something? Don't you have something you need to do by that day?
And how do you "know" something's bad set to happen then, anyway? Did you... plan it yourself? Nah, that's crazy talk. It'll all come together soon enough. You just know that something needs to be done, and fast. Better... go into town and investigate. Maybe you'll remember things better if you jog your memory a bit first.
TL;DR
You are Town Cop! You... know things. You're not sure why. Spend long enough at night looking at somebody, and you'll figure out /recall some key details which might help determine what they're up to.
* Each night, you investigate one target. I will tell you "Town," "Scum," or "Third-Party."
* This is Cthulu mafia, so I can't give you much guarantee that any role in the game works exactly as advertised. I will say that I guarantee that you are not a naive cop or rando-cop.
* From your "Night 0" pre-investigation knowledge, you have found out that the scum possess a godfather or godfather variant. (This is not known by other townies.) So, be alert.
(Role-playing wise, you couldn't even begin to make a list of townspeople you know and have met while at home, but as you meet them in person, you find that you can sort of interact okay on instinct. You can't remember someone's name if you think about it, but if you just strike up a conversation, it might pop out naturally. Well, for the characters who aren't travellers who just popped into town yesterday, at least, those you obviously never knew.)
* Hidden: Vigs his targets, too.
Comments: Game was partially designed around him, of course. And Bardiche was right he was the serial killer clue given to Nathan Greaves... he'd have gotten that clue regardless of the role he ended up earning, so heh. Also role worked really well - of course the Time Traveller is going to be both smart and have researched everything she could before, so she's just recalling research.
For flavor, I'll post the memories Bardiche got each night in a bit. They were by far the most extensive night result PMs, so I was moderately disappointed when Bardiche didn't charge into the thread on Day 3 after Alex commented how "My role PM doesn't say my name will change on Day 3, does that make me less scummy?" and start yabbering about the "mistake" with his name.
Also, her plot was basically "Cthulu Quantum Leap." (
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Quantum_Leap_%28TV_series%29 ) Now with less misty 60s nostalgia and more madness, a good trade. As Shale notes, consciousness-transferal is already semi-established in the Mythos, so doing it with misguided science and Mythos artifacts works.
I suggested to Bardiche that despire Dale's death, it's possible Mei-Fan's consciousness made it back to 1998, albeit with her Sanity severely damaged. Of course, it's possible some of Ronald Dale came with her too.... Bardiche wasn't happy about that.
So no, Mei-Fan makes it back to the future and lives happily ever after. Just... wondering, somedays, if she really has escaped Dale...
wait Bard's going to kill me again never mind.--------
[Eternal Lurker]
You like Marbury. Nice people, nice scenery, nice hunting. Especially the hunting part. A national park right next door? Great!
You always were a bit of a loner. Your family comes from the deep countryside, even farther north... the kind of place where the nearest town is a full day's ride away. Long ago, your family at least figured out a way to work with the wild while still showing nature the supremacy of Man. While, as the youngest of three brothers, you decided it was best to move out on your own, you still performed the ancient rite of House Callahan. You hunted a wolf, personally, caught it, and while it was still alive cut its hide and mixed your blood in. And thus you made the belt you will wear today. Oh, no, despite outside appearances, it is not leather, though you've tanned the outside to try and make it look good. It's more like... some kind of... flesh. Living flesh, even; it's warm to the touch. Usually tossed loosely around your trousers, it only takes a few seconds to tighten it and concentrate a bit, and then... freedom. There's nothing more delicious than handing yourself over to your baser instincts, and just letting yourself go to explore, to prowl, and to feed. You're not 100% sure what you look like when you do this - you never have the presence of mind to find a clear lake and take a good look - but you know you usually find yourself on all fours soon enough as you athletically leap about. To avoid shocking the locals, you generally keep these little prowls to the nighttime, though you have the belt on hand at all times in case of emergency.
What does this mean? Well, you're pretty much invulnerable at night, at least to a normal killer. Good luck catching up with you to shoot you, let alone find you. In fact, finding you is unusually difficult - whatever strange beast you become, it's not obviously recognizable as Ty Calahan anyway. Though this is a mixed blessing at best, as someone checking up on this might wonder how you disappear so effectively at night.
As for your original post, sorry, no great inheritance waiting in the wings. In fact, you're in a bit of monetary trouble right now. The "disappearing" horses do mean you're living a bit beyond your means at the moment when you factor in the fading carriage market and the need to replace horses for when you let yourself loose to the power of the belt too close to the pasture grounds. Not to mention that alcohol, being illegal, is certainly a bit pricey if you're spending some of your day at Rosie's basement, where forbidden pleasures can be found, albeit expensively. At least your normal dinner is generally "free," though.
TL;DR
You are Town Bulletproof Shadow!
* You are immune to normal nightkill attempts.
* You cannot be watched or tracked. Watchers or Trackers who try will be informed they couldn't find you and that you appear to be immune to them. Of course you don't actually have any night actions, so this will serve mostly to freak them out.
(Also: This was RANDOMLY GENERATED. I swear. Congrats on getting the best flavor match by sheer accident, since you said outright in your original post "is never seen after sundown." Well, you're a Shadow! Congrats!)
Comments: I was a little leery about a werewolf in the Cthulu setting at first (Eternal Lurker suggested this to me), but dang if he didn't get the perfect role for it. Also, SHADOW IN A GAME WITH NO TRACKERS OR WATCHERS. Just a bit of a paranoia to toss in.
------
[Sir Alex]
Aw, shucks. This is gonna be a bit embarrassin', but it's time to talk about your pa, Jon Hutchins. He's a right old fellow, a bit distracted, but he's always had your best interests at heart. You don't really remember too much about your early childhood, but you were born in 1911, and know your ma Edna raised you from '17 to '21. Your dad was a hero who fought the Germans overseas! It was a bit strange he took so long to come back, but apparently he traveled the world a bit while he could. You don't doubt that he missed your mother and you every second he was gone, though. It was '24 that ma got sick... you always felt a little guilty over that. See, you got sick first. You were delirious... can't really remember much of anything... but you've always wondered if you gave your flu to ma somehow. Or that it was somehow your fault, that you got better and she didn't. Pa was never quite the same after that, either. He was a lot more serious, and threw himself into the Order a bunch more.
You're not sure you were ever quite right in the head after that illness, either. You've heard that the Spanish flu back from '18 could do that to people, mess 'em up in the brain. You've always felt like you were walking in a fog, somehow.
But no more.
Two weeks ago... something happened. The fog parted, and you felt a warmth within you. What... was this? Whatever you claimed before about not perhaps being the smartest around certainly wasn't true, anymore. You felt a new clarity, with everything... well, almost everything... coming into focus. As if you were now closer to being complete. Whatever that means. It still might be useful to fake being a mere football player, but your mental faculties are fully the equal of your mighty physical ones now.
You soon discovered it wasn't just that. The basic strategy of the football team is "hand you the ball, watch as it takes three tackles to take you down." This works pretty well for a tiny team from a tiny town, but even you can only take so much without proper support. But oddly enough, you seem to be able to spread your physical capabilities around, now. Why, with a touch, spindly lineman Nate Woodbury was soon shrugging off onrushing opponents as easily as yourself. He even looked a bit different, as if he was a new man. You're a bit worried to not go too crazy with this- you want the team to do well enough to win the State Championships, but you don't want to be outshone by the other players!
You hadn't really noticed at the time, but the more you thought about it, you remembered that your dad was out for some Order event the same night where you felt the new warmth within you. He came back in a pretty evil mood, too, muttering about how it was all a failure. Call it a wild intuitive leap, but you think that perhaps he succeeded more than he knew? Perhaps he didn't fail after all, but merely directed whatever power he was calling down somewhere else? You really have no idea, though. You do know he was obsessively reading over his books lately, and got the impression that there'd be another ritual shortly. He always did take both May-Eve and Hallows-Eve pretty seriously, and that'd be in about a week. You know that Martin Andrews (Shale) became a good friend of your father's and member of the Order about 5 and a half months ago, and that Ethan Hayles (Yoshiken) was a casual member of the Order of Unseen Wisdom. Your dad used to be friends with Jack Daniels (Makkotah) more, too, but you think they've been more distant since Jack turned to drink.
You had football practice last night; plenty of witnesses to that. Your father never came home, which you were used to happening occasionally. This usually meant your father slept at the Lodge because it'd be unsafe to drive or ride in the dark, muddy ditches that pass for roads at night. After he still didn't show up, you fetched the Sheriff to drive you out to the Lodge to go look. That's when you two found the body.
Well, it looks like you're probably excused from school today, at least.
[[OPTIONAL: I don't know how far into the realm of comedy you want to play the character. If you do want to go for more humor - or perhaps just for some make-conversation on Day 1 - in honor of a certain other character you've played, Chad can be forming the "O.S.O." club at Marbury Senior High. Its noble mission: to find any aliens, time travelers, or witches, recruit them into the club, and then use their power to make the Marbury Ospreys football team UNSTOPPABLE. Overwhelm States, Ospreys!]]
TL;DR
You are Town Doctor! ...probably for the best to act like this power is a health tonic coming from Abe's Sundries, and not admit it's from your transformative touch.
* Each night, you may protect one target. This protection will save them from normal nightkill attempts. (Certain nightkills may ignore this.) In the unlikely event of two nightkills targeting the same person you protect, they will die (short of a 2nd doctor or the like). Your target will not be informed they were doc'd (though they will, of course, be informed if they are attacked at night yet mysteriously survive.).
* You may protect yourself only once.
* Like cop, I cannot entirely guarantee your "sanity." Your treatment may, or may not, have other side effects.
HIDDEN: Returns Mod-Guaranteed Sanity-Independent Town to cops, removes Miller status with doc'ing.
Comments: Well, Alex basically offered to re-enact "The Dunwich Horror" with his character bio, so who am I not to oblige? Thanks for giving the best plot hook to sink teeth into, basically. I wasn't sure how Alex would play Chad - the innocent, the good guy, the cackling nut - but I think his style worked. Mysterious yet good at heart, I think? Hard to say.
I was a little worried when Alex's bio implied Chad wasn't the swiftest one, so I made sure in the Role PM to give Alex permission to use his full faculties and still be "in character." Had Alex survived AND picked a darker path for his character, it was possible to get the "worst" ending in which the original timeline basically comes about anyway - Nyaralathotep is defeated, Chad completes his father's ritual to attain ultimate power, which turns out to be highly overrated when it basically turns him into a monster.
Also note that Pietro would have had a useful cop investigation of Alex had he copped him.
------------
[Hunter Sopko]
You always liked Americans. You went to school in Philadelphia, visited the Great Plains, ran a shop in Los Angeles for a year. An industrious, honest, and... gullible people, always looking to get ahead. Your fine American accent and traveling ways made you well-placed to take up the task given to you by your father: spy like crazy on American naval installations in the runup to the Great War and during it. Port workers and sailors are notoriously bad at keeping secrets when in a bar. You made it back to the States just in time, before the War actually broke out, and never had much paper trail tying you to your German Intelligence father. ...of course, the War didn't go so well for Germany, and your father disappeared sometime in early 1919. You're not sure from what; starvation or robbery seems likely.
But look on the bright side! In the ten years since, you've become more like a roving merchant of information. Travel from one town, spread some gossip, see what people are talking about, and move on to the next. You wish Germany could afford your services more, but they're currently stuck with that wimptastic democracy the French insisted upon. So, you've moved on to... other... people willing to pay for information. You pride yourself on gathering information yourself, so you're pretty sure you've sold to the Communist Russians, the Japanese, and the mob. You have no particular reason to be in Marbury aside from curiosity and a chance to trade information in a rather insulated towns; they can hide surprising, and lucrative, secrets. For starters, the alcohol flows more freely here than you'd expect... that Pietro fellow (EvilTom)'s fault? Could be an interesting tidbit.
Currently you're based out of the New Hampshire area. You expect you'll move shortly, as you always do. But your primitive 1928-esque "truck" does contain a fine selection of goodies for the discerning customer. Miniature trains, ancient Indian artifacts, cure-all tonics (main ingredient: not alcohol, that'd be illegal), musty old books on how to learn French and German, you've got it all. Yup, you're a pretty great guy. Your most treasured possessions are four portraits you have at wherever your current home is: Augustus Caesar, Jesus, Otto von Bismarck, and then, largest of all, a self-portrait you had commissioned at great expense while in New York.
Yeah, life is pretty good.
TL;DR
You are Town Megalomaniac! In other words, a... Vigilante Supercop Doctor Bulletproof Triplevoter (
)
* You are possibly the greatest man to ever live. Your charisma could create a religion, your martial prowess is unstoppable, your ability to aid those in need tear-jerking. It's kind of odd that you aren't President or Kaiser or General, but... but... you don't like to think about that too much.
* In theory, you choose a target at night. You supercop them. If they are town, you doc them. If they are scum, you shoot them. Any nightkill attempts against you fail. During the day, your magnetic personality and irrefutable arguments means that every vote of yours counts triple.
* I'll tell you right now not to get your hopes up about your votes actually being triplecounted. In your saner moments, you realize that the odds look bad that your night abilities are anywhere near what you imagine them to be, as well. You're not entirely sure where your real talents lay; maybe you'll figure it out as the game goes on. For Day 1 and probably Night 1 as well, you can safely consider yourself vanilla. I will inform you if you eventually get a night action or this status changes. It's entirely possible that you might end the game vanilla.
* Yes, the (
) is part of your role title.
HIDDEN: Here's the max power Kyle could have attained via stealing books and reading them, Maya Shrodinger style.
* Archivist (Moses's books)
* One-Shot Doctor (Chad)
* One-Shot Counter-Psychologist (Ethan Hayles' psych books)
* One-Shot Bulletproof (Peyton, the Flesh Ward spell)
* One-Shot Cop (Some detective novel from Dale, despite it really being Mei-Fan who was the Cop)
Comments: Basically a jack-of-all-trades backup inventor. Very important for town had Bardiche been lynched, since he'd still have a one-shot of cop.
-----------
[Alice]
You are exactly what you appear to be - a traveling Russian mathematician / musician looking to get by in the States. It's tricky, with too many people assuming you're some kind of communist spy, when nothing could be farther from the truth, but you still generally enjoy life and your travels.
Unfortunately, you have enemies. There's been a terrible case of mistaken identity. A Mr. Theodoros ("Ted") Koupitoris of Boston believes that you are his brother Nick Koupitoris, who helps out as a cook at his Greek-American diner in Boston. Hah! As if a cultured man like yourself would be stuck in such a profession for any length of time. Well, you can't deny that you appear to look similar to this poor Mr. Koupitoris, who apparently went a little crazy, but it's still a pretty silly mistake. I mean, you never liked Greece much, while Russia - now that's a fine homeland. And sure, you know how to speak Greek, but that's just because it's got a connection to some fine math history - Archimedes, Pythagoras, etc. Anyway, Ted wants to stick his brother in the Marbury Sanitarium, but he thinks that you're him! Despite the fact that you are clearly of sound mind! You're not sure where the real Nick Koupitoris is, but that's not really your problem.
So what are you doing here in Marbury? Well. Ted had you transported by carriage to the Sanitarium. Luckily for you, the driver stopped at a farm house south of Marbury to chat with the owner - they must have been old friends. After waiting for about 15 minutes, with those two nowhere in sight and apparently deep in conversation inside the house, you decided to be bold and just get out and leave. It's not like you were restrained in the carriage, thankfully. Your plan had been to head north briefly to get the tracks headed the wrong way, then secretly double back south, but you must have gotten mixed up and gone south then north, because you found yourself in Marbury itself. Luckily, they probably won't look for you here... they might not look for you at all, really. Unfortunately you lack cash to travel effectively, so you've taken up a temporary job at Rosie's Country Inn providing musical entertainment and helping clean up. You're mildly worried that there's a bounty hunter in town, Bill Hellsnake (Magetastic), but he can't be coming for you, right?
You do have one notable edge. One of your fondest friends in the States who helped you out when you were first here is a Patriarch of the Orthodox Church... Russian Orthodox, of course, not Greek. He gave you a strange stone right around the time of your arrival and shortly before the misunderstanding with Ted Koupitoris. You're not sure exactly how the stone works, but you've definitely felt different ever since you've been holding it. You think you can read other people's auras! Maybe! And you know that you can't die so long as you hold the stone. You think. You don't really want to test that. Just goes to prove why the Russian Orthodox Church is awesome, and the Greek Orthodox Church a pale imitation of it. Though it's kinda funny that you can't remember the name of the Patriarch who gave you the stone... just a very friendly, bearded guy who was always only the Patriarch. What a wonderful man he is.
TL;DR
You are Town... Rolecop (?) Miller Self-Reviver. Note the ? after Rolecop.
* Your shiny stone of power gives you impressions of people. From trying it out on your neighbors, dog, general store guy, etc. it seems to mostly tell you someone's "role," like "Shopkeeper," and the color of their aura ("orange"). On the other hand it claimed harmless old widow Avil to be a "Murderer" with a yellow aura so who knows. (The aura color is strictly flavor, I'll say right now.)
* This role is a trap.
* You may investigate one person a night, sneak a good view of them, concentrate real hard, and see what impressions you get. This may generally tend to be their role... but maybe not. And even if it is the role, you'll only get a name, not a full explanation. And even if that name is correct, well, see the opening post to this game - don't make too many assumptions about roles and the setup, "Dark Cultist" might be a harmless townie with delusions of grandeur.
* Have I mentioned that this role is a trap? Who knows where this stone came from, or how it works, or anything. Any patterns you find could well be exploited by the real villains. It might almost be best to pretend you're vanilla and not try and read too much into potentially tainted knowledge. Then again, it's not like that's going to stop you from investigating people anyway, right?
* If you should die, your flip will be revealed (including alignment and powers), but you will automatically be back in action the next day. This includes lynches and normal nightkills.
* Be aware that some nightkills might negate this ability. Further, if you were to be roleblocked, you would not only be unable to revive from a simultaneous nightkill - if you were lynched the next day, you would still be unable to revive yourself.
* You are an unjustly hunted man. You return opposite results to cops - so "scum" to sane cops and "town" to insane cops.
Comments: I couldn't even begin to think what a Russian immigrant to the US would be doing in small-town New Hampshire, especially a somewhat insular small town. So I went with "insane Greek cook from Boston" instead. The rolecoppery was very dangerous this game - doctors are not your friends, Kyle is Town, Excal's Docfather would have returned anything Excal wanted that wasn't a Mafia role (so "Kindly Priest" say), etc. The Miller actually wasn't so bad - had Bardiche shot him, he'd have just popped up as a confirmed Townie immediately. It only mattered vs. Kyle's one-shot cop backup had it come to that, and solving the "4 from the inside, 6 from the outside" puzzle.
----
[Shale]
This morning was a perfectly boring, ordinary morning. You start making some coffee, put some eggs on the griddle, looked a bit at yesterday's copy of the Nashua Telegraph - just like most every day. Like... huh. What happened yesterday, anyway? Or last week? Or the past ten years? Now that you think about it, nothing but a stream of normal, boring days with nothing of note. Really nothing. This never bothered you before, so why is it bothering you now? ...or maybe you actually did do things these past years, and have since forgotten them? Nah, that's crazy talk. You must have just led a boring life.
When you headed into town to man the shop, the murder of Jon Hutchins was all over the news. You went down to the lodge in a truck with the sheriff to find out more. The lodge seemed pretty familiar, like you'd been there many times... you probably have, actually, just you can't recall much of what you did there. The biggest surprise was definitely the body, though. A noble frame, ended too soon. What a wonderful, clever, honest, and friendly person Jon must have been. It's hard to put your finger on why, but though you can't remember much about what exactly Mr. Hutchins did or didn't do, you can tell he was a great man worthy of trust and loyalty. Such a tragic loss! His murder must be avenged. You're a bit scared for your own life - any enemy of his is probably an enemy of yours, and all humanity, really. You should probably work on getting the murderer (murderers?) before they get you.
Oh, and one other thing. You know, deep in your soul, that you must never allow yourself to be put at the mercy of the vilest conspiracy ever to haunt mankind. They hide in plain sight, advising the leaders of the world, and disposing of those who anger them in the guise of their greatest weapon, "disease." You speak, of course, of the Order of Caduceus... known to the common man as "doctors." An ancient cult stretching back to the time of the Greeks, founded by the fanatics Galen and Hippocrates, and even still binding themselves to one another by their "oath." But they won't get you. Oh, no. You've trained yourself to be able to avoid and shrug off any action attempted on you by anyone even resembling a doctor. The only mystery is why the general public still hasn't connected the dots as to why the doctor's strongholds, the hospitals, are so full of death yet continue their docile march into the enemy's hands.
TL;DR
You are Town Docproof! Sure, they may claim to save people, but you know the horrible truth and avoid them at all costs.
* Any action on you from a Doctor, or from affiliated "doctor-like" roles (Paranoid Doctor, etc.), fails. Both you and the doctor who tried the action will be informed of the failure as well as that you appear to be immune to them.
(RP note: To the extent that you investigate yourself, you'll find evidence at Abraham's Sundries, the shop where you work, that you arrived in Marbury on May 2, about 5 and a half months ago. Though since your clearest memories are of this morning, it feels like you've been here forever. Anything further, well, the other townies might know what you've been up to? Probably nothing, for a boring guy like yourself.)
Comments: Actually Bulletproof for this game, though Bardiche could still kill him. Yay surprise.
Andrews was a homonculus created by Hutchins to serve him, which could have explained a lot of powers. Think Ennis from Baccano! for those that saw that. Docproof was easy enough to explain - any doctor would immediately detect that he wasn't human.
Also, apparently the perfect servant being has sideburns.
---------------
[Xanth]
Ah, Marbury. A nice quiet town to live out your retirement, and do some occasional trout fishing in the mountain streams. Of course, Marbury probably wouldn't be your first choice. You actually were a professor at Miskatonic University back in the day... an ichthyologist, actually. Nothing like fishing to help you better know about fish. You'd probably have stayed in a nice urbane college town, with tea socials and erudite guests, if... if only they'd believe you! See, one of your 'side' specialties was analysis of giant species of fish - sharks, sunfish, sturgeons, and so on. Yet many of the creatures and tales you've collected from returning sailors have been derided as mad fantasies. Well. You doubt you'll ever be able to find any megasquid at sea at your age, but you might have more luck with lake-based organisms. You've heard a variety of strange tales about odd sightings at Squam Lake, Silver Lake, Ossipee Lake... you figure there'll be plenty of time to examine them all. Maybe you can return in triumph with a nice carcass of the Marbury Leviathan of the Lakes to show your fellow professors who'd doubted you! Or maybe you'll just publish on your own and stay here in New Hampshire. Let them stew.
Frustrated by your lack of success in finding any native New Hampshire sea creatures, you bought a strange guppy that you couldn't identify off a suspicious sailor on a trip to Portsmouth a month or so ago. He claimed it was an exotic fish from the Mekong Delta in French Indochina, perhaps a child of the legendary sea beast there the French called the Tarrasque in honor of the more famous Tarrasque from the South of France? You threw it in one of the local lakes, and have found that you can easily summon it with the right kind of bait... blood. It's been growing alarmingly fast, too; it might well eat all the fish of Silver Lake. You've been tossing in some extra food for it to better watch and measure it, but its size means that you'll have to start stealing horses from the Callahan stables soon to keep it going. If this is even a wise idea. Maybe you should try and poison it? But how? It's an unknown species, and you don't want to kill the entire lake.
Well, you haven't had much luck in finding your fabled lake monsters so far, but you did see one odd thing recently. You were up fishing in the mountains two weeks ago, and you heard what sounded like... chanting? Not many people doing so, though. Maybe 2-3. Was there some kind of religious event going on? And then... a single scream? In a moment of cowardice you felt ashamed of later, you told yourself somebody probably had merely cut themselves with a knife, and went back to fishing. Now that there's been a murder, though, you have to wonder. Maybe something more happened then?
Last night (October 23) you were fishing near the Lodge of the Order of Unseen Wisdom. It's unfortunately made you a suspect in the murder, but you don't know anything. You certainly didn't hear anything.
You're not sure how you could help out... except perhaps by going back through your trove of books you took with you from the halls of academe? You've read most of them already, but could probably use a refresher. Plus, you got a few books on the occult from fellow retiring Prof. Brown, who for some reason was frantic and wanted to get rid of them. No idea why he had such a pale look on his face while he did so. There might be an occult connection here, after all. Well... it's not clear if if reading books help, but it'll likely help more than a fish would.
TL;DR
You are Town Archivist! This is pretty much a classic hero-type in Lovecraft stories.
* Each night, you may read one book from your library. Some books will tell you nothing relevant. Some books may give flavor clues about the "Dark Secrets" other characters have, but not really help with any in-game. At least four books will give you concrete yet minor information about the game. For example, you might find out "The Scum have a Framer," "There is a Jester somewhere in the game," or some unusual rule that scum / third party must abide by. Consider it moderately likely this will reduce to vanilla; I don't intend to hand out information that reduces the game to a logic puzzle.
* Despite it being incredibly flavorful, there are no negative consequences for reading any of the books, so there's no reason not to do so each night. At worst I will tell you that the terrible secrets found within a book have stretched your sanity to its limits, and encourage you to include at least one post of ranting and raving the next day, but this is ultimately optional.
As for anony accounts... hey, you already have one! danniteowl/BoosterShots , though you'll need to change the display name and clear the avatar. Didn't do it myself because I wasn't sure if you'd take advantage of it.
Here's the list of books you have available, in rough chronological order.
* Suetonius's
The Twelve Caesars, specifically the chapters on the rule of Tiberius->Caligula->Claudius->Nero; Tiberius's secluded manor on Capri where he practiced disreputable dealings, Caligula's madness, Claudius's mysterious poisoning, etc.
*
Qanoon-E-Islam, seems to be an English translation of an Arab work on gods and djinns? Doesn't seem very "Islamic" from what little you know of the Mohammadeans, though.
* François de La Rochefoucauld's
Maximes. A sarcastic French noble's quotes and thoughts on life?
*
Cultes des Goules, a French book of claimed black magic rituals?
* A purported captain's log of Sir John Franklin, who searched for the Northwest Passage, was stranded on Baffin Island during the Arctic Winter, went insane, and starved.
* Lewis Carrol's
Alice in Wonderland, in which a young girl discovers a strange realm where nothing makes sense yet runs on its own internal logic.
* Charles Darwin's
The Descent of Man, an unpublished draft copy. Even the sanitized, public version had shocking ideas about the secret origins of mankind.
* James Frazer's
The Golden Bough. Proposes a common link between all religions and cults worshiping the same gods with the same story in different guises.
* Sigmund Freud's
The Interpretation of Dreams, a description of the shadowed internal mental state of humanity, and methods for curing ailments of the brain.
*
The Davidson Record, a screenplay. As far as you know, no movie by this name ever came out. Seems to be about a man who measured his house and found it 1 inch larger on the inside than when measured from the outside.
If you later feel the need to roleclaim and want to post the list for input on your next night action, I'm willing to suspend the normal rules about no C&P-ing from the mod a bit, though feel free to paraphrase some if you have time. If you do copy & paste, though, you can, but be sure to remind people the disclaimer that "I could have cooked up this roleclaim and asked SnowFire to make up some supporting material." (I'll note my general willingness to do this in the rules post on Day 1.)
Comments: Ah yes, the traditional "investigator" role from the Call of Cthulu roleplaying game, who solves the case via reading the cult's holy books and chanting the invocation backward. Also gives town a fighting chance of figuring
