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5/5, would Desolate again. - Odium

Use Dimensional Barrier and declare Fusion monsters. Fused won't be able to pop up for a turn afterwards. Other Floodgates would probably work too. Vanity's Emptiness would be fantastic to side in against the fused. I'm hesitant to say that Necrovalley, Dimensional Fissure, or Macro Cosmos would be good, since we don't know whether the Fused get sent to the graveyard or banished when they are killed. Seeing as Odium technically has to tribute a Parshendi to create a fused, Mask of Restrict may work as well, but we'll need a judge to rule on that one. If you can protect them, Majesty's Fiend and Vanity's Fiend are good choices as well, but less consistent and harder to summon. Kaijus are a bad option here unless you're sure you can OTK. I think the best way to counter Odium's deck is to go first and keep him from getting Everstorm out. That field spell provides ridiculously powerful revival effects and lets him plus like crazy. 3 Ghost Ash and 3 Ghost Ogre are a must.

Finale: Shao Elantris glimmered as sunset fell over the land. Alone, above Kae and the other surrounding cities, it defied the night for only the second night in many years. Of course, last night, everyone had been too afraid to watch it. Too afraid of knives in the night, of the wrath of Shu-Dereth, of death. Tonight, on the other hand... Tonight, beggar-children climbed every rooftop they could find to sit together and watch Elantris grow brighter as the sky dimmed. Tonight, the nobles climbed to the towers of their high mansions or rolled out in extravagant carriages to get a better vantage point. Tonight, mothers brought their children out in the streets to see the miracle, and tell them stories of the olden days. Inside the gates of Elantris, the Four Restorers stood in silence. There was work to be done, far more than Kae dreamed - the walls may have been restored, but the scrolls were gone or half-rotted; those Elantrians who hadn’t already discovered the Well and left were few and far between and still coming to their senses. The walls glowed, but their knowledge had been reduced to nearly nothing. They had not even quite cured Aladdin yet, when a decade ago it would’ve taken a few minutes. That didn’t matter to Kae, though, even if they’d known. Elantris’ return ultimately didn’t mean new miracles and perfect health to them - they’d gotten used to living life without that, in the long years since its fall. But they watched the silver gleam of the walls of Elantris as night fell, and for the first night in many they felt true hope. Kainae stood up, stepping down from the wall she had been facing for more time than she cared to admit. She began walking home somberly. Tears still flowed down her cheeks, and she thought of her “meeting” with herself on the wall a day earlier. She was likely mad, hallucinating, seeing visions of her future self that simply didn’t exist. Perhaps she had deserved to step off the wall when she had the opportunity, giving her compromised mind peace in the afterlife, where she could have gone to join Enelan, at his side, where she truly belonged… No, she said to herself emphatically. You know better than that. She may not clearly understand it yet, but Domi had spared her for a purpose, and she would find that purpose and carry it out. Using the same mental techniques she practiced in ChayShan, Kainae stuffed the morose thoughts of her lover self into the back of her mind, concentrating on her motions, which sped up as she paced towards her house. One, two, one, two… she counted in her head as she rounded a corner. The rhythmic thump of her footsteps and the consistent counting cleared Kainae’s mind, dispelling some of the exhaustion she had felt from kneeling on the wall for nearly a full day. At last, Kainae took the final left turn and ended in front of her house. She frowned. Her easel was still knocked down from the second confrontation with the Cultists over the course of the last several days. She propped it up, gazing at the crumpled paper with a critical eye. Tearing off the first few sheets, which were damaged beyond repair, Kainae looked at the remainder of her easel. It was still hopelessly bent, the paper unable to be reflattened and the easel itself broken in some places. This would not do. With a sigh, Kainae went to her desk, popping open the center drawer and taking out one of her precious canvases, rigid and undamaged. Unsure of what she was really doing, Kainae selected colors. The black of mourning and death and evil. A silvery gray, to represent the moonlight under which the Cultists killed. A deep green for nature, which remained in harmony despite human conflict. And finally, white, the color of hope and light. Then, moved by a sudden impulse, she seized the four colors, taking mostly black and grey, and dumped them into the same cup. Letting the mixture settle and mix for just a few seconds, she poured the contents of the cup onto the center of her canvas. The different colors bled outwards, creating patterns and shapes Kainae had no control over. Letting Domi direct the flow of the paint, she stepped back, watching as the colors mixed and spread. Amazingly, not one drop of paint ran off the edge, an occurrence only explainable by Domi. Or Jaddeth. Thoughts of Enelan quickly sprang to mind again, but she smothered them instantly, refocusing on her painting. It was definitely abstract, Kainae decided. However, two things stood out to her. The coloration was the first: the structure of the gray on the bottom of the painting, the gray-green areas, the black at the top with the strange formation that looked like a bird of some sort. These were the lands owned by the farmer Eoni, viewed at nighttime from the mountains to the east. More specifically, it was his fields, with the strange rock called Eagle’s Jaw jutting out in the middle of them. But why would Domi show her this? Kainae then looked at the center of the painting, where the white paint had formed an Aon. Shao. Change. Transformation. A change may be happening in Eoni’s lands today, she mused, but for an Aon to be in the middle of my painting, there must be some other meaning. Perhaps Domi wished to tell her about a major change in the world? Elantris had been restored, a large change that would produce yet more changes in the future, and maybe Domi warned her of this turbulent time. Or perhaps it was more personal. Kainae herself was changing. She certainly was not the person she was two days ago, when Enelan had been by her side. She was not the fearless Jindo that had chased away the Cultists coming for her. Her love of honor in battle had dwindled since then, after she had fled and run into the other Jindo on the night after. And she was not the artist who sat in her room, alone, painting for hours on end, for Kainae would not be that restful again. She was none of those people, and yet, she saw all of them reflected in her. Lover. Warrior. Artist. Broken. She could transform, had been transforming into something better. Domi would continue her renewal past Enelan’s death. And so would she. But first, something was going to happen in those fields of Eoni tonight. Kainae left her paints behind, and rushed to find out what it was. Eoni sat in the fields as the sun began dipping below the horizon. He had finally found the Aon plate, and had decided to destroy it. He walked through the city, carrying the plate, to Elantris’ pool, and dropped the plate in. The Aon itself disappeared, but the plate remained engraved and intact. Well, that would do. Eoni returned to his fields, where a crowd armed with torches and pitchforks had gathered to face him. They had decided to come to his extraordinarily grassy field, and stopped at its edge. Nigel, who appeared to be acting as the leader of the crowd, spoke. “You’ve been behind the killings! You knew that the Elantrians would see your acts, and you hid from them! Stop this horrid act, and die. We’ve got a message to send to "the Ja”—we don’t accept these sacrifices in this city!” With that, the mob moved to surround Eoni, pitchforks held at the ready. “You really shouldn’t have come here.” Eoni said, and flashed a wicked grin. “These fields are mine!” Eoni dropped to one knee and placed his hand in the soil, then began chanting in a strange language... *** In strolled across the wall of Elantris in the faint light of dusk, the meeting with the others concluded. He passed a guard, who stopped and saluted him crisply. The Elantrian Guard no longer policed the Elantrians, they served them. In made his way to the western portion of the wall, and looked out over the fields that stretched between Elantris and Kae. Down there, somewhere, was the secret tunnel leading out of Elantris that they had discovered last week. They still hadn’t had time to do anything about it, but they needed to do something. Board it up, or at least post some guards there. As In looked down, he noticed something strange about one of the fields. It had been plowed in crazy, twisting patterns. It kind of looked like Aon Shao, but different. Twisted. Different somehow. Suddenly, the fields lit up with an ominous, red light, forming a pattern. It was Aon Shao, but interspersed with strange modifiers- not like the modifiers used in Aon-Dor. They were reminiscent of the patterns the Jeskeri cultists had been using. Shao meant “change,” but this aon had been altered. Corrupted. “That can’t be good,” In said, then began running towards the guard he had passed, calling the alarm. *** Down in the fields, the crops began writhing and growing at a furious rate. Their lush green color faded away, replaced with a soft red glow. Within seconds Eoni was completely obscured by the corrupted crops, and villagers began crying out in panic as the plants thrashed about, leaving burning welts where they touched skin. Suddenly Eoni appeared, dashing through their ranks and swinging a twisted dagger. Villagers cried out in panic and dove out of the way, but Eoni didn’t stop to finish them off. “He went this way!” “After him!” *** The plants pulled away from Eoni as he ran, making a beeline for the rock formation known as the Eagle’s Jaw. Within a couple minutes the formation was in sight, and there, at its base, was the pile of shrubs that concealed the smuggler’s tunnel. Eoni just had to reach that tunnel and he would be in the clear. If the mob tried to follow him he could just collapse the tunnel behind him and bury them all alive. But before he could reach it, Sheodan burst out of the wall of glowing plants and cut Eoni off. Sheodan was covered with red welts from the plants, but his training as a soldier in Eondel’s army had allowed him to ignore the pain and catch up to the escaping Cultist. Sheodan swung his sword at Eoni’s head, but Eoni ducked under the blade and lashed out with his dagger, slashing the soldier across his gut. Sheodan grunted and fell back, clutching at the wound. Eoni growled, and moved to finish the soldier off. “SHEODAN! NO!!!” The voice came from behind Eoni and he whirled just in time to catch a glimpse of the Elantrian ANGUS before he barreled into Eoni knocking him aside. *** ANGUS dropped to his knees by Sheodan, tears forming in his eyes. He began drawing Aon Ien in the air- he hadn’t yet mastered the healing Aon, but he had to at least try to save his dear friend. Eoni grabbed his fallen dagger and scrambled back to his feet. He glanced at ANGUS drawing in the air over Sheodan, tempted to rid himself of two foes at once, but he could hear the sounds of the rest of the mob getting closer- they would be here any second. No time. He turned back to the rock just in time to see another Elantrian, Rhomil, emerging from the secret tunnel, looking surprised and scared of the scene before him. This lone, terrified Elantrian was now all that stood between Eoni and escape. Eoni gripped his bloody dagger and charged forward. *** Rhomil’s took in the horrifying scene in front of him. Corrupted, overgrown plants glowing with an evil red light writhed wildly. Sheodan lay on the ground in a spreading pool of blood while ANGUS tried desperately to get the healing Aon to work. And Eoni, who must be the Jeskeri cultist, rushing towards him with a bloody knife in his hand. Rhomil’s mind raced. He had no weapon- other than Aon-Dor, but he didn’t know any dangerous Aons. He didn’t know how to create fire or stop a man dead in his tracks. All he knew how to draw was Aon Nae, magnifcation- useless- and… He began hastily drawing in the air, his fingers leaving glowing trails in their wake drawing an aon and including the most powerful modifiers he knew. Eoni was getting closer. A dozen paces. Eight. Five. Two. Rhomil finished the aon, then closed his eyes and drew the chasm line. *** Aon Ashe burst alight with a brilliant white light- brighter than the sun. Eoni screamed, blinded by the shining Aon. He swung his dagger but missed and tripped over a rock. He fell and the dagger was knocked from his hand. He searched frantically with his fingers, trying to blink away the afterimage of the Aon burned into his vision. The villagers caught up to him first. As mob seized him and began stabbing him with pitchforks, Eoni gave the best inflamed-throat shout he could. “PRAISE THE JA!" I hope nobody minds the long write-up, we had multiple people contributing to it and since it was the finale we wanted to make it special. @Elbereth wrote the section about night falling on Elantris. @Fifth Scholar wrote the part about Kainae painting, and also made the Shao painting. @Walin wrote a death scene, part of which made its way into the write-up (In his version he gave up way too easily, and I couldn't let that happen, so I changed it and expanded on it. I hope that's alright, Walin. ) If you liked the writeup, make sure to give each of them upvotes! Walin has been lynched! He was the last remaining Cultist! The Jeskeri Cultists have been defeated! Arelon has won! @Devotary of Spontaneity and @Jondesu/ @Kynedath were lovers, and have won by surviving until the end of the game! Vote Tally: Eoni (Walin) (4): ANGUS (Jondesu ), Nigel (TheMightyLopen), Rhomil (Cadmium Compounder), Sheodan (Devotary of Spontaneity) Bill (King Cole) (3): Amati (Kidpen), Eoni (Walin) Straw (Straw) (1): Kainae (Little Wilson) Final Player List: Links Master Spreadsheet Spec Doc Jeskeri Doc Shu-Dereth Doc Elantris PM log GM thoughts to follow in a later post.

***** 5/5 stars Lots of food and evil to destroy. -Nightblood

6/5 Come Destroy Evil with Me Nightblood

0/5 stars. I just have so many issues. It's so wet and rainy, the ground is too hard. You can't travel for very long without having to shelter in fear from one of those Shadows-cursed storms. And fire reacts weirdly??? Like, I get that there's more oxygen and stuff, but really this has gone too far. After I get used to the luxury that is open fire, you go and make it too big and hot and there's all these stupid spren flying around it? No thanks. And I know I mentioned the storms already, but they're just the worst. Loud, keep-you-up-at-night, boulder-crashing storms that leave the ground sticky afterward. Why would that be appealing?? And the highspren just aren't very friendly! They think every human who comes along is going to kill them somehow. I mean, I dislike Cognitive beings as much as the next guy, but honestly I don't see what the big deal with spren fishing is! I just thought that Anticipationspren looked a little tasty, and next thing you know they've locked me up! And on top of that I lost my coat. Please don't send me back here. -Nazh, probably.

I belatedly realized that there's an even cleverer review:: 1/5, Welcome to the Hotel Roshar, you can check out any time you like but you can never leave! - Odium

This is a good thread. And I must support it. Reason 1: My sister has been diagnosed with Asperger's Syndrome, and she has it bad. She is antisocial- does not get along with any of her classmates, doesn't like to talk to people, that sort of thing. There's other stuff, too, like how she doesn't understand people very well, and can be very...blunt. Her attempts at humor tend to be more insulting than funny. I am the only person that she can really talk to, who will understand her. Reason 2: When I was in elementary school, I was diagnosed with ADHD. I can get off-topic very easily, and am sometimes hyper. I take medicine to deal with it. Also, after my sister was diagnosed with Asperger's, my parents realized that I show a lot of the symptoms as well: inability to pick up on subtle social cues, obsessive studying of strange topics, and other peculiarities. I have also experienced depression (of the suicidal kind) too, but managed to deal with it. Thanks for working to bring awareness to the many issues people can face, and some of the worst: the issues within our own minds.

RAFOnium that's Brandon's godmetal right?

I ship Oathbringer spoilers with the Oathbringer spoiler board. Anyone who ships Oathbringer spoilers with the main Stormlight board is wrong. (In other words, this thread is not in the Oathbringer board, so please do not mention Oathbringer content.)

Something interesting I've noticed about Brandon's books is that whenever there is a system of racism or discrimination, the bigotry seems to be rooted in justifiable reasons. For example, on Roshar, the dominant group are the lighteyes, whereas the persecuted or lower group are the darkeyes. It is explained that this is because of the fact that the Knights Radiant had light eyes, and so the people began to associate light eyes with prestige and developed a social order around it. When Kaladin first summons his Shardblade in WoR, his eyes lighten, much to his chagrin. On Scadrial, a similar situation exists with the noblemen oppressing the skaa. At one point Ham wonders philosophically if the differences between the skaa and nobility are legitimate grounds for the oppression of the skaa. These two examples are interesting to me because both of these systems of "racism" or discrimination were originally based in legitimate differences - the Knights Radiants were powerful, strong protectors who had light eyes, and the skaa were physiologically different and less intelligent from the noblemen. I'm not saying that these things justify the social stratification in these societies, but it definitely serves as an explanation, and one that could be easily used to maintain and promote such discrimination. I feel like racism on earth (based on skin color) has no foundation other than historical ethnocentrism, because skin color does not separate people physiologically or by intelligence, but in the case of Roshar and Scadrial, it seems that there were much more legitimate reasons originally for the social separation. Has anyone else noticed that the systems of discrimination in the cosmere seem to have legitimate historical foundations, and what do you guys think about this observation?

Hey there, (fellow) nerds! I've got some stuff to share with you, hot from the JordanCon oven (well, lukewarm at best by now, 'cause it's been a couple of weeks, but still!). Those of you who have either read my recap of the (the second day of the) event, or listened to my recap of the event in the most recent episode of Shardcast will know that one of the awesomest things that came out of JordanCon was Isaac Stewart's workshop on creating Stormlight glyphs. I, along with a few others (notably, @Pagerunner, @Jofwu, and @yulerule) attended, learned a lot about glyphs, created our own (I made the "argent" glyph look like a banhammer ), and I promised to get all of this sweet sweet knowledge into your brains - pending approval by Isaac and the JordanCon team. And this is where the good news come in! I heard back from both parties (I mean, I contacted them both today, so I guess I could've gotten this done sooner, but I am a procrastinator, get off my case!), and we are in the clear! The slightly less good news is that the audio of the workshop, along with the few short video clips I took will take a little longer yet, but you'll get to see them eventually. But before we talk about glyphs, and pictures, and workshopping, some credit is due. Obviously, to Isaac Stewart, art director at Dragonsteel Entertainment, LLC., for creating all of this amazing work. But also to Deana Whitney, Director of Workshop at JordanCon, moderator for Isaac's workshop, creator of awesome cakes, designer of the "Happy birthday" glyphs (seen further down in this post), and a bit of a forum lurker as @DeanaMCW. Without JordanCon, and her specifically, none of this would be happening - not for many many years, at least Now, onto glyph things! You can find all of these in the Creating Stormlight Glyphs gallery album, but I wanted to go over them in greater detail here. First, a doodle Isaac (or, possibly, one of his kids) did in Silk - an artiste sketch, as he calls it. It would eventually turn into the Alethi glyph for "family" - abara, shown further down, but for now it's just a freestyle doodle meant to capture what family feels like. To him, the vertical lines are like "protective tendrils" around an inner "core." And here is the final version of abara, the Alethi glyph for "family": You can see the similarities between the original sketch and the final version. Full disclosure, if Isaac were to put glyphs like this in the canon, he would "straighten them out and clean them up more before they wind up in the books." Interesting trivia about this particular glyph is that, like many other glyphs, it derives inspiration from (ancient) Arabic and Hebrew. For this one, Isaac drew on these languages' words for "family" - 'aylah (Quora told me it might be عائلة, but I have no idea!) and baith is how he pronounced those words respectively, but he also acknowledged that he is probably saying them wrong. A quick check with Peter, and we have abara. Along similar lines, we have the Alethi glyph for "physician" - tafar: Those of you familiar with certain physicians - doctors, you might say - may recognize what inspired this one... But let's move on to the two glyphs here not designed by Isaac. These two come from Deana, but have Isaac's stamp of approval. They read "happy birthday": I'm afraid I don't know what they sound like. And finally, the main handout we used in the workshop - a two-sided printout, Nazh's glyphs page from Oathbringer on one side, and several glyph examples on the other: The first page is nothing new, though it is worth mentioning that both the Oathbringer version of it and this one have one small mistake Isaac mentioned during the workshop - the glyph for "eternal" is actually supposed to be kalak, not kalad (as it appears here). The shape of the glyph remains the same, only the name changes. The second page is a little more interesting, as it does talk about Isaac's glyph creation process, as well as the way the Alethi language qualifies nouns (Bridge Four > Four Bridge). It also includes the Alethi words for the numbers from one to ten, as well as the symbol for zero (though, perhaps, they don't have a name for it?) - a lot, if not all, of which we already knew thanks largely to @Harakeke. What is more interesting about it is that it gives us the translations for all the glyphs from the Ironstance scroll from Words of Radiance! The big glyphs there spell out "Iron Stance", the small ones presumably outline a dueling technique specific to this stance - "stance", "lure", "trap," - culminating with "finish." The red seal/stamp is the symbol of the Calligraphers Guild, as reported by @Jofwu in this post. Technically, it spells Isaac's name (as Izyk), but in-world it wouldn't be that, it would be some Alethi word (presumably) that either stands for or represents the Guild. [There was another image here, but Isaac says it was never meant to be released publicly, so I am taking it down. If you saw it, don't consider anything on it anywhere near canon] Aaand that's it! Man, but have I been itching to share all of this with you guys! So what do you think? Are you thinking about geting all inked up now?

Toll the Hounds is SO MUCH BETTER having just finished what's been written of Karkhanus. Like, I know who these random Tiste are and am much less confused by the goings on with Nemander and company.

WorldhopAdvisor.com/Roshar (NalthisGrrl): Roshar (3 of 5 stars) - Many reasons to visit, but not to eat The weather is famously turbulent, and the food is lousy. Colors, will you miss the food back home! Pack some sandwiches if you come here, because unless you can afford pork (expensive), you're mostly going to be eating bugs of some size or preparation. Even the vegetables have names like "rockbuds". Not kidding! There's also this artifabrially produced thing called "flangria" that feels and tastes like mud, but is served up as meat almost EVERYWHERE. Ugh. I finally made it palatable by giving a melange of spices from T'Telir to this Herdazian woman cooking for me. I told her it was called "Flangria Helper". I might start a small business with this, so, no stealing my idea! On the plus side, Investiture more or less literally falls from the sky. So if you're feeling short of Breath, if you know what I mean, this place can be like a spa to which you'll want to Return again and again.

** 2/5 This stormin' place is purple like a lemon. Zahel

4/5 Divine treatment guaranteed. - Hoid

Creddit to Reddit user CWSt_Nobbs

Hey guys, I now ship Hoidonalsium. And yes, thank for reminding me I'm supposed to be making that.

On a semi-related note, a Mars day is about 25 Earth hours and is called a Sol, and is used for timekeeping with Mars rovers and the like. A Mars year, if I remember correctly, is about 475 Earth days, meaning about 460 (?) Mars days. Edit: Already got 2 reputation so I'm kind of starting to feel guilty for giving off-the-top-of-my-head numbers, here's the more accurate numbers: Mars day is about 24 hours and 39 minutes (and 35 seconds) on Earth. Mars days are divided into 24 Mars hours that are slightly longer than Earth hours. And good thing I checked now, because otherwise you'd believe incorrect information about the Mars year, as I was significantly off: A Mars year is about 687 Earth days, or 668 Sols.

I'm in leadership at my school, and we're in charge of the morning announcements. So I talked the leadership teacher into letting me write some things up about some mental illnesses to put on the announcements. She said she'd also try to set up a spirit day where we all wear green.

Well, I've said it before so I might as well say it again. I like Adolin and Shallan together, so I'm glad that seems to be a thing. As for everyone's favorite brooding Windrunner, my preferences after Oathbringer are still pretty much the same as they were before Oathbringer: 1) Kaladin/Lift -- The similarities between "I will protect those who cannot protect themselves" and "I will remember those who have been forgotten" make me think that these two must have pretty similar overarching philosophies. They're both have a thing for helping others (even at great risk to themselves), they're both big into healing, they just seem like they'd get along well and compliment each other nicely. 2) Kaladin/Syl -- Talk about two people who get along well. Syl very much provides for Kaladin the counterpoint he needs. It's not quite so clear that he's as helpful for her, but he clearly cares for her quite a bit. Honestly, if Syl were human, this would be an easy pick. But that whole "being a spren" thing might cause issues. On the other hand, issues are the foundation of good storytelling. 3) Kaladin/Nobody -- Not every character needs a romantic counterpart, and Kaladin has certainly gotten along fine without any romance worth mentioning so far. I'd rather have nothing at all than some poorly shoehorned-in relationship.

Returning here to add a few tidbits for Arcanum reference. After I made it through the signing line, I went to go visit the folks at Sanderson Trivia to see how that was going. Afterwards, a couple of us went up and spoke to Karen while she had her wiki out. Seemed like a good opportunity to get some things I've been wondering. I'm going to list some tidbits here without much rhyme or reason. Shallan and Jasnah left for the Shattered Plains on "day 6927" (her calendar), which comes to 1173-9-6-2. (she did note that her dates are subject to change if needed) Highstorms apparently come more frequently around Midpeace. We know they come less often around the Weeping, but I don't recall anywhere in the books saying they are more frequent around the middle of the year. There are no storms during Midpeace itself, if I'm not mistaken, so I assume she means the weeks before and after. This last bit came up as Karen revealed that... minor OB Spoilers: Highstorms move at about 370 miles per hour. The Everstorm moves at about 120 miles per hour. Those are somewhat variable of course; particularly for the highstorm. Karen confirmed something Peter told me privately a few months ago: for their Everstorm timing calculations they used a cycle of 9.1 [Rosharan] days. I also noticed that she had Roshar's circumference at 22110 miles, though I don't know how official that is meant to be OR whether that's technically "real miles" or "Rosharan miles". (If it's "real miles", that would give a circumference of 0.888 which is close--but not exactly--the 0.9 number that Khriss mentioned in Arcanum Unbounded.) I may have a few other notes scrawled in notebook margins, but I think this is most of it. Edit: Oh! Two more OB timeline points that she checked for me.

It turned out to be quite handy

I really like the totally unintended, accidental implication you guys made that Adonalsium was Hoid's loved one.

Nightblood

Today I took my final exam in math, I thought I had done well but I failed it and as a result the class. I am reeling, I have never failed a test or a class before, part of me still can't comprehend what happened. The worst part is that I can look back and know what I could have done better, I can see every step that lead me to this point. Knowing that I could have done better but willfully made decisions that made me fail hurts worse than anything I have ever known. I was set to graduate with an associates degree this Friday, now that I have failed math I am not sure if I have enough credits to graduate. I want to blame the professor for writing a hard test or my counselor who convinced me to take a math class I didn't need, but in the end, I know that this was on me. I guess all I can do is try to use this as a lesson to ensure that this never happens again. However, this seems like an empty comfort for it holds no solace for me. I usually try to keep my failure inside, hide my weakness from others so posting this confession is new for me. I think it helps the act of typing this is helping me cut through the haze of emotion, whoever started this thread is awesome. Thanks for listening.

Most stereotypes do have some basis in fact. Stereotypes exist because, when you see someone (who's different from you) doing something objectionable or ridiculous, your instinctive reaction is not to ponder the social, economic, and cultural pressures that might press that person into doing that thing. The instinctive reaction is to shrug your shoulders and say, "I guess they're just like that. Those people. All of them." It's cultural behaviour falsely attributed to biological ethnicity. It's the archaic belief that nature is everything and nurture is nothing. So, in describing racial prejudice on Roshar, I think the word you're looking for is "realistic."

3.5/5 stars. Harmony knows I've stayed in worse places, but with those rusting high storms coming so often, meat on this planet never gets to age properly. The one consolation is that a certain High princess caught the common cold and passed on in time for me to truly "enjoy" high society. Take it from me, the gossip is nowhere near as juicy as the gossipers themselves. If you come to Roshar you "May" see me around, but that's up to Harmony I guess.

The setting for Kelsier's epic duel with the Inquisitor started out standard enough, then comes that terse reminder that this is a world of ash: ash which is bleak, dirty, depressing, and completely symbolic of the ugliness of The Final Empire. The handiwork of a murderous and tyrannical megalomaniac, who literally causes the streets to run with blood without a moment's misgiving. ...and yet which we discover later in the trilogy was also Rashek's desperate, and successful, gambit to save mankind and the world from Ruin. The original Mistborn trilogy not only contains uniquely effective plot twists in each of the three books, but also the overarching twist about the Hero of Ages that spans all three of them... But the most surprising twist of all is that I finished the trilogy, like Vin, genuinely respecting and appreciating the altruism and goodness of The Lord Ruler. Of all the things I didn't see coming, that's the one I can keep being amazed at with every re-read of Era 1.

They were good fellas. Wise guys.

Congratulations on your seventh pile.

I feel you on the behind thing. Ugh. Overall I don't have much to comment on this time around. It's mostly action, and the pacing is just fine. I think it all comes off a little too easily, but in fairness it is rural Canada, and people are pretty easy going. I don't understand how the call comes through at all. Did someone hack eighty? Also, like @Mandamon, the life of crime bit seems a little implausible. I think I need more desperation from them before being okay with just randomly punching people. But generally, I liked this! As I go - page six: road hot pokers? red hot pokers? - page six: missed change to make a quip about gentlemen, I think, after the hangnail comment (which I loved) - rolling along at a good clip here, and the only thing that comes to mind is that it all seems...really easy.

This is kinda crap but whatever I wanna share I. “Dammit, we used to be proud.” Conversation always turned in this direction. Sevtis saw Ixtal slam his cup down. His eyes were the glazed look of a man too deep into his drink and the night, although Ixtal riling trouble was nothing new. “You remember.” He slurred. “The battle of Salvation’s Valley! We cast the die that ended it.” “We were making the right choice.” His comrade grumbled. “Back then, we were.” He sighed heavily, his eyes and beard drooping equally. “But now?” Ixtal sneered. “Look at what they’ve done. Our grand ideals..those damnable politicians…” His voice faded into grumbles. “I haven’t had faith in them for a while.” Sevtis found himself rasping. He coughed and wheezed slightly, the metal thunking somewhere inside him as it kept his lungs working. The wonders of modern medicine, back when the world still had wonders. “Well, we’re all there. But we did at one point.” That was Tyv, the soft-spoken bannerman. “That’s why we chose the side we did. They made the promises, those populist scum.” That was borderline treason, and they all knew it, but talk often got heated. Besides, nobody would call the Svetsguard on the 31st Light Battalion. So what if old war veterans got a bit drunk and talked a bit too loud? Even heroes of the Unification had issues with the way of the world. With the horrible things they had seen? Everyone knew the stories. Death Spires were an uncommon sight these days, since the Old Kingdom fell, but there was not a person alive who didn’t know and dread the sound of them moving. A cup hit the table, and the Captain hauled himself up and out of the bar. He left if it ever got too political. “They used to stand for something.” Another soldier snapped. “They talked about how they’d save the world, steel and gear and flames.” “There have been flames enough.” Ixtal scowled. “The steelworks still churn, pouring the ash out.” Sevtis glanced at the fireplace, empty and cold. About it sat two urns, shining and polished. The barkeep had lost someone too. Sevtis thought about the four urns adorning his hearth. Four broken promises. Four more to a lifetime of them. “Do you remember Pyr, playing that damnable flute of his?” Ano chuckled. “Little Pyr!” Sevtis laughed. “The boy was like lightning and quicksilver.” “He’d play that one tune, right until we crashed into the enemy lines.” Ano said wistfully. “Even the battle of the Valley…” Ixtal sighed sadly. The mood turned grim again. The night outside was pitch and coal, the stars long since blotted out by the encroach of smog and soot. In the distance, someone screamed. Nobody reacted. “Enough of this!” Ixtal roared, swiping his cup aside. “We used to be men!” They all knew what he meant. “What can we do?” Ano asked quietly. “We did our time and fought our war.” “We gave them blood, they gave us ash.” Tyv spat. “We should slit that demagogue's throat in his sleep.” Conversation stopped. The door banged open, and the captain strode in. He had his breastplate fixed on, the metal dull and battered. His helm was also on, the engraved wing decorations tarnished and rusted. His sword was at his belt and his rifle across his back. “Our war isn’t over.” He proclaimed, drunken. “The ideals aren’t...I won’t let our work get strangled off in committees! If I will die to the death raining from the factories, I die on my feet for the ideas I killed for!” “And do what?” Ano asked quietly. The Captain pointed at Tyv. The small man smiled. “We kill us a Prime Minister.” The captain nodded. Could they? Could they really? The barkeep looked stunned, but hadn’t moved. “We seize the armory. Take the weapons and ride like we used to, right to the keep, and kill us a liar.” Tyv sprouted. “We could hit the Core!” Ixtal almost chirped. “Take out their ability to poison our land and skies!” “What’s going on here?” They all turned. The Svetsguard looked in at them. Two members, with pikes and pistols, moving slowly into the room. “N-nothing, sers.” The Barkeep mumbled. “Just old men, too deep in their cups.” “It sounded like treason.” One guardsman said. “Treason?” The Captain thundered. “I am Captain Yovel of the 31st Light Battalion!” “Please calm down.” The guardsman intonated slowly. “Calm down! Calm-unhand me!” The Captain roared. The guardsman had stepped forward and placed his hand on the Captain. “Right now, you pathetic excuse for a soldier!” The guardsman’s face twisted in anger, hand going for his pistol, and- Sevtis wasn’t sure how it happened. A twist, a fight for the gun, a shot. The guardsman fell. The other looked up with wide eyes. His comrade had a hole in his chest, still smoldering slightly from the lightning the gun trapped. The air smelled of blood, burned flesh, and ozone. The other Svetsguard stared at the Captain, blood on his hands and gun in them, and went for his own pistol. The Captain shot him too. The Barkeep gasped. The room was quiet. The Captain had a look on his face. He looked angry, sad, pathetic. His armor was a mere facade of the warrior he had been. They all were. But maybe, just for today…. “That settles it.” Tyv was on his feet. The Captain looked at him. Then the Barkeep. The man stared at the room of ex-soldiers, and quietly went to his house upstairs. One by one, they joined the Captain. Maybe they could remember. II. Alarm bells were ringing by the time they all got their armor and weapons. 45 of them, the entire remaining 31st Light Battalion. 150 dead in the battle of the Valley, 200 dead in the twenty years since. Ano wore a necklace with a small ring, like a child’s. Svetis had one in three of his urns. They were at the armory. The Svetsguard outside looked nervously at them. “Captain.” One said. “What are you…” “We are here for our horses and charges.” The Captain said softly. The guardsmen looked at each other. One edged to the side while the first stepped forward, an amiable smile. “Why would you need those, Rah?” He use the most formal word for commanding officer Sevtis had ever heard. Funny. Trying to keep his attention, while the other- Ixtal shot the other man dead, his hand falling limply from the alarm. The first guard opened his mouth, only to have his throat torn open by the Captain’s sword. Two more to the list. Two more broken promises. III. “Consveratis!” We preserve. “Servatis!” We save. “Praesiditis!” We protect. The horses’ hooves thundered down the main street, the cobbled stone echoing, their rifles raised and ready. The guards at the keep gate shouted, alarms all around them. The rifles cracked in a flash of light, the fury of heaven streaking forward. For a moment, they were light. Their armor was brilliant silver, not tarnished rust. They were the 31st Battalion again. A glorious charge. They were young again, twenty years dropping off them as they remembered the days. The days of glory, of fighting for a cause, of belief and ideals. The guardsmen broke before the charge. The gate was open. Sevtis heard them, the men shouting the battle cry, even Pyr playing that same tune as they rode. This would likely end the same way. Bodies and blood, friend’s ashes, banners fallen. Tyv rode next to him, his face lighting up fiercely in the flashes of his gun. Another line of enemies formed. It was so hard to see them as people, as men with families, not as the damned of hell sent to stop them. Damned they were, though, because this group also broke. The fires of heaven shattered them. Men fired from above in the palace down at them, and men died again. Tyv went first, blasted off his horse. Ano went down, his voice raised in shouts of defiance. “Maria! Luno!” He shouted from the ground, not quite dead, before a second shot ended him. His wife and child may yet see him, their names on his lips. They were inside, and there were men. Swords were drawn when gun failed. Men were rushing towards the keep from the city, men were welling up from within the fortress. But they dropped away here, as every group did. They didn’t seem to realize yet. The 31st was attacking, but they were manning a desperate barricade of hope. Pyr’s ghost still played. “This way!” The captain was yelling. They ran, 30 left, through the halls. Down, down, down to the deep, where the core rested. More men blocked them, steel flashed. Sevtis had blood on him, his allies’ and enemies’, none his own. His gun was long since empty, and his arms burned from carrying the explosives. He threw his rifle, stabbing a man. The 30 had shrunk to 25. Ixtal was dead now, choked on his blood and burned with the lifeblood of the new world, stolen from the sky. Everything was stolen from the sky. Color, power, stars. Sevtis and the captain were the only two left when they finally got to the core. Sevtis threw the explosives down and started arming them. “Stop.” The Prime Minister. “Why continue this meaningless bloodshed? You’ll only die.” “Yes.” The Captain said, his voice solid. “You chose to believe in us, at the Valley. You made the right choice.” “There were no right choices. Both sides...the Walking Platforms...the Death Spires….” “Were necessary.” The liar said soothingly. “Please, end this madness.” “Yes.” The Captain whispered. The Prime Minister held out his hand, to shake or for the Captain's weapon. Captain Yovel of the 31st Light Battalion shot him in the throat. He stood for a second, the defiant god, before withering in a hail of fire and doom. Sevtis nodded. He stepped back, offered a prayer, and detonated the bombs. For a moment, he wondered if this is how Pyr felt, seeing death rush towards him an not being able to stop it. Sensation ended. IV. He was surprised when he woke up, but he knew he was not long. Limbs did not twist like that, and that was a lot of blood. He somehow survived the initial blast. The Core was collapsed, twisted metal and smoke. High above, out through the now-ruined ceiling, he thought he saw a glimpse of blue sky. Maybe it was a memory. But a memory was enough. He died.

His final oath "I will sacrifice myself to save others" BAM! FINAL POWER UP. Final blaze of glory.

I don't have too many guesses on who will die so much as assumptions/hopes on how they die(if they do). Similar to Illythyrra Dark's thing about Szeth, but for more characters. If Dalinar or Szeth/Adolin die, I hope they go out in a blaze of glory. I know Dalinar is moving along a different path, but he still has the fighting experience from his Blackthorn days to fall back on when in dire straits. Adolin has always been a fighter, while Szeth has been our big heavy-hitter for WoK/WoR, and now that he's got Nightblood.... I don't see his arc ending without a fight. Jasnah/Shallan: The Veil persona is overconfident, while Jasnah has an arrogant streak. Regardless of what actually does one of them them in, they need to bite off more than they can chew. It makes the most sense for them to seal their own fates, by taking on some task/challenge that we know they can't accomplish. Kaladin/Moash: I'll reserve commentary until we see their SA4 story, but I expect that only one of them will reach the SA10 final battle, and then that one will die during it. Renarin: Betrayal. I really don't know why, but that's what I'm feeling is the most likely thing to do him in. Taravangian/Lift: This is an odd pairing, but I see them ending up in similar situations at different times, and having one/both of them die to it. Not sure what that particular fate may be, but I see similar fates befalling them. Rsyn: I still support my Lanceryn theory, but I'm not sure where that'd take her in terms of an ending to a story. But I will say she is one of only 2 characters thus far that I absolutely do not want to die. Talanelat'Elin, bearer of all agonies: Taln had a habit of choosing impossible fights and winning, often dying in the process. I've always pictured Taln walking across the battlefield like a literal god amongst men, standing up to anything the enemy can dish out and returning the pain in quick succession. Like with Dalinar, I think Taln will start drifting away from combat, but you don't just give a character that kind of reputation, and not show it off. At the end of his arc, humanity will be faced with the impossible fight once again, and Taln shall lead the charge in the final battle, with or without the other Heralds, defend the last bastion of humanity, reclaim the mantle of Herald of War, and survive.

I agree with this. It sounds more like him justifying why Rayse is so incredibly dangerous. We know from the letters Hoid mentions Ati was once a kind and generous man, whereas Rayse is a crafty and loathsome individual. I think this is more of the same, saying, 'Ati was a great guy and he nearly did something terrible. Rayse is clearly a problem we need to be dealing with!' I also wonder if the thing or person that Hoid lost, such that he now has this vendetta, relates to his conversation in TWOK with Kaladin. He mentions two of his names - Topaz, named after a beautiful gem that became worthless by his wearing it, and Hoid, stolen from someone he should have loved.

His name is actually Harry Hoidini

We have powerful allies on Roshar. Dalinar has great hopes for his son in the Church of the Stick. Chapter 5, Ideals, "It is what must be. If Adolin is to be the stick, I must be the feather." And of course, Shallan has been profoundly influenced by her dealings with the sticky one. Chapter 13, The Day's Masterpiece: "'You think I'm as dumb as that stick.' Stop insulting my stick. The words came to her mind, and almost to her lips, unbidden." So we can see the subtly with which the stick is influencing her. I knows a full transformation to stick would be too traumatizing, so instead it is working in smaller ways. A thought here, a quip there, until soon, Shallan will also be a stick.