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Werewolf Harry Potter Werewolf - Everyone has a role!! - Village Wins
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dogs105
Sweet Kennels Proprietor
Dingster
Hall of Famer
If MarcMaverick is who he says he is use your action to block CF tonight. No kill and this is done.
CursingFijian
Knight of the Square Table
dogs105
Sweet Kennels Proprietor
Dingster
Hall of Famer
It was meant to be.
CursingFijian
Knight of the Square Table
Found the naffamatician
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dogs105
Sweet Kennels Proprietor
CursingFijian
Knight of the Square Table
Mod note
More to come.
More to come.
DemurePrincess
Premium Platinum
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Did you **** that? Lol
The write up is taking an awful long time!
The write up is taking an awful long time!
boncer34
Formerly "Dos23"
Deadline
CursingFijian
Knight of the Square Table
DemurePrincess
Premium Platinum
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Croissant Eater???
- Feb 5, 2009
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Oh finally I was close to writing my own epitaph.
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It was going to really tug the heartstrings...
CursingFijian
Knight of the Square Table
It’s the best thing ever.
Yall gonna find out why I’ve been keeping a low profile.
CursingFijian
Knight of the Square Table
boncer34
Formerly "Dos23"
I need to count
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Everyone is on one vote. It was awesome.
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Never before has such an attractive man been so poorly treated by his peers.
DemurePrincess
Premium Platinum
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Why dont I know what’s going on? 
MarcMaverick
Ultra Vegito Blue
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Even better than sliced bread?
CursingFijian
Knight of the Square Table
boncer34
Formerly "Dos23"
Albert Runcorn was a man who reveled in authority. As a high-ranking official within the Ministry of Magic, he wielded power with a ruthless efficiency that bordered on cruelty. The Ministry had long been a place of order, but under Runcorn's watchful eye, it became a place of fear. He had an uncanny ability to sniff out disloyalty, and his methods of dealing with dissenters were swift and merciless. The man who was once merely ambitious had become a tyrant, using his position to crush anyone who dared oppose him.
Runcorn's rise to power coincided with the Ministry's increasing control over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Once a bastion of free thought and learning, the school had slowly fallen under the Ministry's thumb, its autonomy eroded bit by bit. Runcorn was at the forefront of this shift, personally overseeing the implementation of stricter rules and harsher punishments. The school, once filled with the laughter and chatter of students, became a place of cold silence, where fear reigned supreme.
It wasn't long before Runcorn's name became synonymous with oppression. His visits to Hogwarts were dreaded by all; students and staff alike held their breath whenever he appeared, knowing that his presence could only mean trouble. Runcorn enjoyed this power. He enjoyed the way people cowered before him, the way they scrambled to obey his every command. To him, Hogwarts was just another tool to be used in his pursuit of absolute control.
But power, as they say, is a double-edged sword. The more Runcorn tightened his grip on Hogwarts, the more resentment simmered beneath the surface. The students and staff might have been cowed, but they were not broken. Whispers began to spread through the hallowed halls, whispers of resistance, of defiance. Runcorn, in his arrogance, dismissed these whispers as nothing more than the futile grumblings of the weak. He believed himself untouchable, beyond the reach of any who might oppose him.
He was wrong.
The day that sealed Runcorn's fate began like any other. He arrived at Hogwarts with his usual entourage of Ministry officials, his eyes cold and calculating as he surveyed the school grounds. There was an unusual tension in the air, but Runcorn, blinded by his own hubris, paid it no mind. He had business to attend to—another round of inspections, another opportunity to assert his dominance.
He made his way to the Great Hall, where the students were gathered for breakfast. As he entered, the room fell silent, all eyes turning toward him. Runcorn smirked, relishing the fear in their eyes. He strode to the head of the room, his voice booming as he announced yet another set of decrees from the Ministry. The students listened in silence, their faces expressionless, but Runcorn could sense the anger simmering beneath the surface. It pleased him. Fear and anger were powerful tools, and he wielded them with precision.
But as he continued to speak, something strange began to happen. The students, who had always sat quietly during his speeches, began to shift in their seats. There was a murmur, soft at first, but growing louder with each passing moment. Runcorn frowned, his eyes narrowing as he tried to pinpoint the source of the disturbance. The murmur grew louder, more insistent, until it became a roar.
"Enough!" Runcorn bellowed, his voice cutting through the noise. The students fell silent, but the tension in the room was palpable. Runcorn's eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of defiance. He found none, but the uneasy feeling in his gut persisted. He was losing control, and he knew it.
Without warning, the lights in the Great Hall flickered and dimmed. Runcorn stiffened, his hand instinctively going to his wand. The room was plunged into darkness, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then, from the shadows, a voice spoke—a voice that sent chills down Runcorn's spine.
"You have gone too far, Runcorn."
The voice echoed through the hall, its source impossible to pinpoint. Runcorn's heart raced as he spun around, trying to find the speaker. But the darkness was impenetrable, and the voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.
"You have abused your power, and now you will pay the price."
Runcorn's grip on his wand tightened. "Who dares to challenge me?" he snarled, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and fear. But the voice did not answer. Instead, the darkness seemed to press in around him, suffocating him with its weight.
And then, without warning, the shadows came to life.
They moved like living beings, swirling around Runcorn in a terrifying dance. He lashed out with his wand, firing spell after spell into the darkness, but his magic seemed to have no effect. The shadows continued to close in on him, their touch cold and clammy against his skin. Panic set in as he realized that he was helpless, that his power meant nothing in the face of this unknown force.
"You cannot escape your fate, Runcorn," the voice whispered, closer now, as if it were right beside him. "You will pay for your sins."
Runcorn's heart pounded in his chest as the shadows wrapped around him, pulling him down into the darkness. He struggled, but his movements were sluggish, as if he were moving through molasses. The shadows were everywhere, inside him, suffocating him, filling his lungs with their cold embrace.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.
The lights in the Great Hall flickered back to life, the darkness retreating as quickly as it had come. The students blinked in the sudden brightness, looking around in confusion. But Runcorn was gone. All that remained of him was his wand, lying abandoned on the floor where he had stood moments before.
The students and staff exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what had just happened. But one thing was certain—Runcorn was no more. His reign of terror had come to an end, and with it, the shadow that had hung over Hogwarts for so long.
The whispers of resistance that had once been mere grumblings were now triumphant cheers, though quiet ones. No one knew exactly what had happened, but they all knew that justice had been served. The fear that Runcorn had instilled in them began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope that had long been absent from the school.
In the days that followed, the Ministry sent officials to investigate Runcorn's disappearance, but they found no answers. Runcorn had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only questions and a lingering sense of dread. The Ministry tried to regain control, to reassert its authority, but the damage had been done. Hogwarts was no longer a place of fear. It was a place of quiet rebellion, a place where the seeds of resistance had taken root.
And so, the story of Albert Runcorn became a cautionary tale, a reminder of the dangers of unchecked power. His name, once feared, was now spoken with a mixture of contempt and pity. He had sought to rule through fear, but in the end, it was fear that had consumed him.
Hogwarts returned to its old self, slowly but surely. The laughter and chatter returned to its halls, the shadows that had once lingered there dissipating like mist in the morning sun. And though Runcorn was gone, his memory served as a reminder of the strength that lies in unity, and the power of those who refuse to be cowed by tyranny.
ZergMinion (Albert Runcorn) lynched
Runcorn's rise to power coincided with the Ministry's increasing control over Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Once a bastion of free thought and learning, the school had slowly fallen under the Ministry's thumb, its autonomy eroded bit by bit. Runcorn was at the forefront of this shift, personally overseeing the implementation of stricter rules and harsher punishments. The school, once filled with the laughter and chatter of students, became a place of cold silence, where fear reigned supreme.
It wasn't long before Runcorn's name became synonymous with oppression. His visits to Hogwarts were dreaded by all; students and staff alike held their breath whenever he appeared, knowing that his presence could only mean trouble. Runcorn enjoyed this power. He enjoyed the way people cowered before him, the way they scrambled to obey his every command. To him, Hogwarts was just another tool to be used in his pursuit of absolute control.
But power, as they say, is a double-edged sword. The more Runcorn tightened his grip on Hogwarts, the more resentment simmered beneath the surface. The students and staff might have been cowed, but they were not broken. Whispers began to spread through the hallowed halls, whispers of resistance, of defiance. Runcorn, in his arrogance, dismissed these whispers as nothing more than the futile grumblings of the weak. He believed himself untouchable, beyond the reach of any who might oppose him.
He was wrong.
The day that sealed Runcorn's fate began like any other. He arrived at Hogwarts with his usual entourage of Ministry officials, his eyes cold and calculating as he surveyed the school grounds. There was an unusual tension in the air, but Runcorn, blinded by his own hubris, paid it no mind. He had business to attend to—another round of inspections, another opportunity to assert his dominance.
He made his way to the Great Hall, where the students were gathered for breakfast. As he entered, the room fell silent, all eyes turning toward him. Runcorn smirked, relishing the fear in their eyes. He strode to the head of the room, his voice booming as he announced yet another set of decrees from the Ministry. The students listened in silence, their faces expressionless, but Runcorn could sense the anger simmering beneath the surface. It pleased him. Fear and anger were powerful tools, and he wielded them with precision.
But as he continued to speak, something strange began to happen. The students, who had always sat quietly during his speeches, began to shift in their seats. There was a murmur, soft at first, but growing louder with each passing moment. Runcorn frowned, his eyes narrowing as he tried to pinpoint the source of the disturbance. The murmur grew louder, more insistent, until it became a roar.
"Enough!" Runcorn bellowed, his voice cutting through the noise. The students fell silent, but the tension in the room was palpable. Runcorn's eyes darted around the room, searching for any sign of defiance. He found none, but the uneasy feeling in his gut persisted. He was losing control, and he knew it.
Without warning, the lights in the Great Hall flickered and dimmed. Runcorn stiffened, his hand instinctively going to his wand. The room was plunged into darkness, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then, from the shadows, a voice spoke—a voice that sent chills down Runcorn's spine.
"You have gone too far, Runcorn."
The voice echoed through the hall, its source impossible to pinpoint. Runcorn's heart raced as he spun around, trying to find the speaker. But the darkness was impenetrable, and the voice seemed to come from everywhere at once.
"You have abused your power, and now you will pay the price."
Runcorn's grip on his wand tightened. "Who dares to challenge me?" he snarled, his voice trembling with a mixture of rage and fear. But the voice did not answer. Instead, the darkness seemed to press in around him, suffocating him with its weight.
And then, without warning, the shadows came to life.
They moved like living beings, swirling around Runcorn in a terrifying dance. He lashed out with his wand, firing spell after spell into the darkness, but his magic seemed to have no effect. The shadows continued to close in on him, their touch cold and clammy against his skin. Panic set in as he realized that he was helpless, that his power meant nothing in the face of this unknown force.
"You cannot escape your fate, Runcorn," the voice whispered, closer now, as if it were right beside him. "You will pay for your sins."
Runcorn's heart pounded in his chest as the shadows wrapped around him, pulling him down into the darkness. He struggled, but his movements were sluggish, as if he were moving through molasses. The shadows were everywhere, inside him, suffocating him, filling his lungs with their cold embrace.
And then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.
The lights in the Great Hall flickered back to life, the darkness retreating as quickly as it had come. The students blinked in the sudden brightness, looking around in confusion. But Runcorn was gone. All that remained of him was his wand, lying abandoned on the floor where he had stood moments before.
The students and staff exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of what had just happened. But one thing was certain—Runcorn was no more. His reign of terror had come to an end, and with it, the shadow that had hung over Hogwarts for so long.
The whispers of resistance that had once been mere grumblings were now triumphant cheers, though quiet ones. No one knew exactly what had happened, but they all knew that justice had been served. The fear that Runcorn had instilled in them began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope that had long been absent from the school.
In the days that followed, the Ministry sent officials to investigate Runcorn's disappearance, but they found no answers. Runcorn had vanished without a trace, leaving behind only questions and a lingering sense of dread. The Ministry tried to regain control, to reassert its authority, but the damage had been done. Hogwarts was no longer a place of fear. It was a place of quiet rebellion, a place where the seeds of resistance had taken root.
And so, the story of Albert Runcorn became a cautionary tale, a reminder of the dangers of unchecked power. His name, once feared, was now spoken with a mixture of contempt and pity. He had sought to rule through fear, but in the end, it was fear that had consumed him.
Hogwarts returned to its old self, slowly but surely. The laughter and chatter returned to its halls, the shadows that had once lingered there dissipating like mist in the morning sun. And though Runcorn was gone, his memory served as a reminder of the strength that lies in unity, and the power of those who refuse to be cowed by tyranny.
ZergMinion (Albert Runcorn) lynched
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