All credit to Cantripmancer for the (imo) cleanest, simplest ruleset.
1. This is a game. As such, I expect everyone to obey the general rules of sportsmanlike conduct one would expect in any game, which includes following all forum rules and all the rules below. Keep it fun; don't harass me or your fellow players.
2. Breaking any of the following rules have a strong chance of getting you modkilled, recommended for probation, and/or blacklisted from any game I host in the future:
* Don’t edit or delete your posts.
* Don’t quote any PM you receive from me or any other player in the game. Paraphrasing and putting the information in your own words is fine.
* Don’t post after you are dead. Not even a “bah” post.
3. Days will last as long as they need to, within reason. A deadline may be imposed at my discretion.
4. Nights will generally last about 72 hours. They may be longer, at my discretion, or (rarely) shorter. You will always be given an approximation of when night will end. If you don’t want to take a night action, please let me know; if all night actions have been submitted early, I will end the night early.
5. Votes must be in bold, in the form "vote: Cantripmancer"; unvotes are not necessary, but would be helpful in allowing me to keep accurate records, which will lend itself to a more pleasant mafia experience for all.
6. Lynching will require a simple majority of votes. If a deadline is imposed, and no majority is reached prior to it, the day will end without a lynch. Players may also vote"Vote: No Lynch"; a majority of these votes will end the day without a lynch.
7. Once the lynch threshold has been reached, nothing can prevent that lynch. Players may still post during twilight (the period of time after the lynch threshold is achieved but before I have posted the lynch scene).
8. Communication with anyone about this game is restricted solely to posting in this thread, unless your role private message (PM) states otherwise.
9. You may not communicate with anyone (including posting in this thread) during the night unless your role PM states otherwise.
10. The moderator (mod) for this game is Arianrhod. If you have any questions about anything game related, please PM me and I will give you as comprehensive an answer as possible (without negatively impacting the game for you or the other players).
11. If you want to get the mod’s attention, please use bolded text of "Mod:" (i.e. – Mod: Vote count, please, or Mod: What does rule #7 mean?).
12. I understand that real life interferes from time to time, but, just like any game, Mafia requires participation. Players who don’t post at least once every 72 hours will be prodded for activity. Players who don’t quickly respond to a prod will be replaced (or modkilled if no replacement can be found). If you anticipate an away time period longer than 72 hours, please post a V/LA (Vacation/Leave of Absence) message in the thread (if during the Day) and/or send the mod a PM with that information. A player who has to be prodded four times will be forcibly replaced.
13. This isn't so much a rule as it is a friendly warning. I'm a pretty nice guy. Please, don't put me in a compromising position because of it. This is my first hosted game, and I would very much like for it to go smoothly. I'll do my best to provide consistent votecounts and such, but there may sometimes be some delay -- I, too, have a life and interests (including traveling several states away periodically for Magic events).
Sample Town role PM:
Welcome to the Campus of Xymande. Here, research into all forms of magic takes place -- even those which have been forbidden.
You are Sample Town, Town Vanilla
Passive ability: You may post in the game thread, and you may vote.
Wincon: You win when all threats to the town are eliminated.
Dusk falls over Xymande -- the silhouette of the city-college's famed spires reflecting across the desert sands, shading the sun-scorched bantha.
Matron Sylande watched the picturesque sunset from the nurse's station in the 73rd level of the Tower of Solace. Behind her, the moans of the wounded echoed, reverberating like a frenzied chorus.
"Matron!" an acolyte called from the lift. "The Elders would like you to determine the cause of this man's death."
Sylande strode calmly to the magitech lift which occupied the center of the Tower of Solace. A veteran of two border wars and nearly thirty years on shift in the Tower, Sylande was no stranger to death. Still, even the hardened Nurse-Matron was troubled by the corpse in front of her.
It was a man, or had been, once. His eye sockets stared blankly into infinity, empty. The skin around them was dessicated and blackened. His body was covered in scorch marks, and he was painfully thin -- to the point of being gaunt. It was as if something had drained his very life essence.
Closing her eyes, she formed the triptych ward of temporal lens with her hands, and focused her will. As the spell completed, she could see, as if underwater, how the man had appeared in life. Sylande was shocked: this man, in life, had been nearly three times the size that he appeared before her physically as. His body oozed health and vigor -- this was a man in his prime. On his lapel, she recognized a pin that denoted the rank of Master of the House Reed.
House Reed: the guild of weavers. None of their magics had any kind of drawback that would cause this kind of backlash. That ruled out natural or accidental death. Sylande sighed.
She turned to the waiting acolyte. "Tell your masters that this man did not die of natural or accidental causes. This was a murder. I would need more time to determine the exact cause of death, but my instincts suggest some sort of necromantic life drain."
The acolyte paled, and departed rapidly.
Master Roderick, Town Plot Device has been killed.
After delivering his report, the acolyte left Elder Al'jiraq's quarters at the top of the Central Spire in a hurry.
Poor kid, Al'jiraq thought. He'll not sleep soundly for a while.
Al'jiraq walked to the northern window of his bedchamber, displaying more calmness than he felt. The twilit Campus of Xymande hustled and bustled beneath him: hundreds of Masters, thousands of Apprentices, and untold masses of the mundanes who kept the city functional moved about on their own business. Somewhere amidst them lurked a threat -- all of Xymande unaware.