I don’t think we’ve heard from @KAOSkonfused yet either. At least I haven’t seen them.
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I am but a simple pedantic chamberlain. Don’t mind me as sweep up the floors and clean up the terrible mess left by @Vsotvep’s body. Shouldn’t we like … I don’t know … have some sort of funeral? Maybe at least say a few kind words before we unceremoniously dump the body in the moat?
But as I tend to my work, sometimes I wonder if we are all but figments of the imaginations of Go players idly passing the time by chatting in a web forum instead of actually focusing on Go. Perhaps, the most pedantic of such players might even remark at the oddity of a game themed around vampires being labeled as “Werewolf Game 2”.
If we were but puppets suspended and dragged along by strings of text, would we ever really be free to express our own true thoughts, and would such thoughts even meaningfully exists, or are we only forever doomed to the meta-commentary whims of our masters?
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Shouldn’t we like … I don’t know … have some sort of funeral? Maybe at least say a few kind words before we unceremoniously dump the body in the moat?
Certain ants, in the great underground hives or dens in which they swarm and rear their grubs, maintain a caste we call the aurātae, for the reason that the labourers stuff them with sap and honey until they bulge and swell, the honey showing through their pale skin and lending them the appearance of small nuggets of gold. Savages dig for these aurātae and consider them a great delicacy, discerning them by their colour and size (the tastes and whims of barbarians are mysterious.)
So would not the full drainage the veins of an adult man, the devouring of this entire humor of his body, leave even greater a mark on its imbuer than flower-dew in such an insect? Would not some aspect of the victim’s blood or being, his motive force, the natural gestalt which shapes and guides his physical form, lie within the blood that travelled through all parts of once-rosen flesh? Blemishes on the skin, moles, birthmarks and so forth have been known to transmigrate in the cannibal feasts of the Lydians – or so was written in the library of Mithridates the venom-drinker – even ink-writings and brands on the condemned feasting-slaves could reappear on the arms or chests of their consumptors.
I recommend that those of us who are not already beyond honest suspicion should submit themselves “ad socios” to a medical inspection, in which the details of the corpse and also other signs placed upon the body by dark forces to readily identify their servants (such as scar-etchings and several forms of witchmark) can be openly identified.
[ [ If nothing else, if the gods look unkindly on the perpetrators, they will show some reaction during the process and this way indicate their crime ]]
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<quickly let’s put all our urine and fingernails in a witchjar and hide it in the chimney>
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Here, everyone, gather round to eat. I broke my back preparing everything when all you men standed around exchanging words.
For what’s worth, I’d never trade my delicacies for human blood, and never have I heard of a hearty eater being a monster. So, eat. Or I’ll be suspicious.
Not you, @bugcat. You scoundrel, you dare to accuse me, ha! When did you acquire all that knowledge you keep buzzing out since my friend V died? (god bless his soul, he would sweep my cookies straight from the oven). How many decades you have to study and become so learned? Maybe you have an unfair advantage of time?..
… Alright, eat. I could never stand to leave a fellow hungry.
Life has to go on, dishes must be cleaned. Calm your hair and let’s not kill anyone yet. The pain of losing two innocent friends in a row will be too much.
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My dear yebellz, you stand on the precipice of a philosophical chasm. I beg thee, turn yourself about now and direct your full attention to the crisis at hand. “Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof”.
As for bugcat’s speculations about Gia, I feel her tardiness should be duly noted, but as mere information, nothing less, nothing more.
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Ah… just what I needed… to retire to the Library with coffee… biscuits… so I may furiously read the scripts and possibly find answers… solutions… possibly stop the leak in our monetary situation. Is that why the vampire was drawn here? To suck dry not only our blood but our prosperity?
What more evidence do we need but this pale body lying before us? Shall we not retire, fill our stomachs, and think of it further? (Peers at the Chamberlain then again to the Chaplain) Are we prepared to kill again what has already been killed… yes, gruesome, but is it necessary? Maybe. I know not of disco bot and what they have wrought but I may know this. Someone will die this night. Will we prevent it now? Will we prevent it later? Time will tell… and the monsters will wait idly by, gathering more information while we plot our plan in the open…
I will submit to medical testing. I have no fear. If it is me, then burn me, destroy me. The night draws near and I suspect now we will have vampires treading softly around our bed posts while we pull the covers over our faces and hide.
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I hate to put a cloud over these proceedings, but I’m beginning to worry about Kaos. Ordinarily he’s on the forum page most days, but I’ve seen nothing of him since Thursday I think. It could be a lot of things, of course. Hopefully none of them involve a fever or uncontrollable coughing.
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I just checked. Kaos was seen an hour ago but Kaos’s last post was three days ago. Why would he come on if he wasn’t going to post?
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Hopefully he’s still catching up on the reading and we’ll hear from him shortly.
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Wake up @KAOSkonfused! How can you be falling asleep already? The day is not nearly done and we have serious matters to attend to. I would have expected more from our marshall.
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His search for clues in examining the corpse must grow tiresome, and though it is worrisome it has taken so long, I hope my fears are not valid: that the jester waited so patiently as our fearless marshal prepared his body for examination, and finally preyed upon him when the moment was right.
I hope we are prepared for what is to come.
Uhm, ah, what?
I was not sleeping, I’ve only been thinking very hard!
I even got a book about vampires from the library!
Also, I looked for traces near Vsotvep’s body, but I couldn’t find anything… So far, I have no clue who the vampires might be, and I don’t wanna jump to conclusions too early. I had some bad experiences with that in the past.
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Is the library book fictional? It may have some false information. Also are the libraries near you even open? The ones near me are closed. At least we Finally heard from you. It took so long. You could’ve at least posted some updates about your search.
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Forgive me, but all this talk of vampires got me thinking about a delightfully idiotic moment from the series Starsky and Hutch back in the seventies. And since my remaining time with you could be extremely limited, I cannot in good conscience keep this to myself. If you’ll kindly indulge me--------
Starsky and Hutch are closing in on a serial killer who fancies himself a vampire. He’s playing Dracula in a local stage production. During rehearsal the detectives arrive at the theater to arrest him, and when the count sees that the game is up, he tries to escape by climbing the curtain, apparently with the idea of accessing the roof by way of a catwalk up in the rafters. Maybe he intends to turn into a bat and fly off the roof. I mean the man is a few pickles short of a full jar.
But here’s the best part. Do Starsky and Hutch call for backup? Do they have their fellow officers surround the building, or have someone direct them to ----you know— a stairway? Hell no! Starsky goes right up the curtain after him. At one point the count looks down on his pursuer and snarls at him, baring those fake vampire teeth.
Well, the count loses his grip on the curtain (or maybe it was the catwalk) and falls to his death. How very convenient. I seriously doubt that Starsky was trained in curtain climbing at the police academy, but good on him for being able to improvise like that.
That’s the only scene from the series that I can recall with any clarity. Probably not a good sign.
Alright then, back to the game. Thanks for your patience.
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“Garment not golden but gilded, garden where all men may dwell --”
“Tower not of ivory, but builded by hands that reach heaven from hell --”
If you are to study the whitened bones of ages long past, which as we peer through the “fog” (to use a stilted translation) that clothes the scenes which lie before our eyes are given glibly the monicer of “scroll” or “parchment”, codex and biblios, kindly for your own sake allow a little care. The most monstrous fish (as was set down by Strabo in his survey of the Isles of Tin) lie extremely still at the bottom of deep caverns and night-dark holes. They will not stir themselves, but instead await the fēlēs cūriōsa who, with scurrying fingers and squinting eyes, gazes down into their domain… even wise men and scholars who have looked too long into the Mythratic Scriptures and the mysteries of Set – he who weeps in sorrow as he tears the limbs from royal maidens on the banks of the Nile – have lost their grip on the Earth’s wide-stretching plain; falling down, down into the silent starry void…
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[[Sorry. I was quite busy IRL. And you’re right, all libraries here (Berlin, Germany) are closed since yesterday until I-don’t-know-when. 
]]
Uh, what? 
What fish? We’re looking for vampires, right?
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The fish is the mirror of humanity: the tyrannical shark, the timid seahorse, the patient ray, and most of all the municipal swarm of sardina and the rest of the garum-fish. To lure with a deceitful light and then to strike and maim with needle-fanged jaws, is this not the act of man always towards his fellow citizens?
“You plough the field, just to kill your brother with the stones.”
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Now would the world be the ocean in this example? Or would it be some other body of water?
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