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So... I like reviewing things. Or, rather, I like trying to review and analyze things. The actual results aren't ever really as good as they should be, wgich isn't my point right now. My point is...well, for a while now, I've been debating whether or not to try and do more of it. Specifically, Ive been thinking of starting a topic on this forum for me to post my ramblings and reviews about...whatever I feel like talking about, or whatever you guys would like requested. And yeah, it's logic that I've tried doing before. This would be a more serious push to actually do it right for once. So. Bullseye. Lian Yu. Quiver's Corner. Whatever I decided yo call it. Would you guy's be interested in hearing my reviews and ramblings, or is this entirely just a vanity project?

Term 3: Month 1 - Where the River Meets the Ocean Delta sat near the Omethi River, deep in thought. To say his day had been eventful would be an understatement. First he’d been brought On the Horns, and when he’d asked the Masters what the charge against him was, they seemed flummoxed, and eventually had a runner go out to get the actual file on him. Apparently, some degenerate (Delta was determined to find out who this person was) had simply wished to file a complaint about someone and had randomly chosen him. He could not fathom how or why, since he was as common as common gets. No one looked at him. Well, except the Masters. A number of them had decided that the complaint was actually valid (a curse be on their houses), and had charged him. Sure, it was only Undignified Mischief, which was hardly anything, but still. He was indignant. He hadn’t done any mischief. He was as unmischievous as a person could get. Delta sighed. Now there was a blemish on his pristine record. He’d never, ever stepped out of line in his entire life. And yet, here he was in his second term at the University, and he had a charge. Ah, well. At least there was a plus to the whole “being brought On the Horns” thing. He’d been elevated. Again. He was now a Re’lar, and he proud of his rank! He was also greatly looking forward to his new studies. He had so much open to him! All the possibilities! Well, not quite all. But still! A lot! Who cared about being brought On the Horns and charges, especially such frivolous ones. He refused to let that get him down. He nodded, making up his mind. He’d simply throw himself into his studies. Surely the Masters wouldn’t charge him with anything else, when they could see how dedicated he was. Surely no one else would complain about him for such a horrible reason, when he was simply trying to study! He stood, intent on walking back to the University to start his plan. He’d make them all see that he wasn’t as common as he seemed. Yes. Yes, he would. He stepped toward the bridge, but then he lost his footing, and ended up stepping on a mud patch, which caused him to slip and slide straight toward the river! Delta couldn’t swim. He flailed his arms trying to catch himself on something, anything, before plummeting into the cold water right in front of him, but there was nothing to grab. Only mud. Slippery mud. Suddenly, Delta was wet. Very, very wet. And cold. And, worst of all, he was sinking. He kicked his legs and flailed his arms some more, hoping that maybe he’d break the surface of the water and perhaps someone would see him. His attempts were unsuccessful. As his gulped in water and his vision went dark, he heard a faint splash above him, and something grabbed his arm. And then he blacked out. Acaelus Starfire was brought On the Horns, but the charges were dropped! Sev was brought On the Horns, but the charges were dropped! Delta was brought On the Horns and charged with Undignified Mischief! If he hadn’t gone insane, he would have to RP an apology! Kipper was brought On the Horns and charged with Undignified Mischief! He needs to RP an apology. Amari (Araris Valerian) was brought On the Horns and charged with Conduct Unbecoming! He received lashes for his punishment. Delta (Paranoid King) went insane! He is now in the Crockery. These students were elevated: Kipper, Acaelus, Amari, Mind of Akasha, Delta, Sasuke Uchia, Dow, Silverblade

So as I was looking over the newest news post, I got to thinking about how someone in the Reckonersverse would learn about all of this, and before I knew it, I had the beginning of a story. I know it's almost all exposition, but I had a good time writing it! As he woke up, he couldn’t remember much. He remembered where he was- he had just crossed the border from Idaho, and he remembered there was somewhere he was going. Something important had happened to him. Something about his family? He couldn’t remember. All he knew was that he had an ache in his head, and a destination that he needed to get to. Even if he couldn’t remember where it was. But, he would accomplish nothing by staying in one spot. He slowly packed up the few belongings that were around him, unsure of what was his and what would be useful. The sleeping bag? Definitely useful. The backpack with food in it as well. And the raincoat and umbrella would be a necessity. This was Oregon after all. As he started down the path, he saw a pair of figures in front of him. He worried for a moment that they were Epics, but that fear quickly subsided. It would be unlikely that two Epics, destroyers with unusual powers, would be walking on an obscure road. No, far more likely was the fact that they were fellow travelers. It would be wise to join them- groups were often safer than traveling alone. Before traveling with them, he wanted to know what kind of people they were. He moved to the side of the road and quickened his pace, striving to move stealthily. As he drew nearer to them, he could hear their conversation, even if he couldn’t see them. He heard a refined voice say “Did you hear What Happened in Portland?” “Aye. I hear there be a turf war there. Three factions, each determined to win control of the city. Each with nasty Epics with powers more powerful than the last. Which one do you think will win?” This voice was a gruffer voice, with a bit of a Scottish accent. “That’s a tough bet. People have told me that they favor the Dominion. They’ve got Corpsemaker, who can negate other Epics abilities and kill with nothing but a stare. “ The other man snorted. “What good is killing when you’re against a necromancer? The Empire of Light has Lightwards, who be building an army of zombie dionsaurs as we speak. Sure he’s got Doctor Funtimes who is constantly pulling pranks with his teleporting and his pinkness. But it’s hard to defeat someone who can raise the dead.” “True. However, my money is on Altermind, who leads the Thoughttown. They are smart enough to know when to fight, and strong enough to hold there own when they need to.” “Of course you would like them. They’re just your type. Cowardly, ineffective, intellectual snobs who would rather see the world burn than be wrong. Kind of like how Astoria is burning now.” He glanced out of the thick foiliage, and spotted a glimpse of the men. The one with the gruff voice was shorter, had a beard, and seemed to be carrying… an ax? Perhaps he was a lumberjack of some sort. His companion with the more refined voice was taller, in a suit, and did seem to be rather nervous. “Astoria is burning because the city’s ruler is absent, not because someone failed to act” the Suit said. “By being absent, isn’t the ruler not acting by default? You’ve seen how many High Epics have moved in, trying to make a claim to the city!” Ax said. “Not all are trying to lay waste. There is the Church of Singularity. I hear that they worship the savior zero, and for whatever reason, they despise how seven ate nine.” “What? That’s hogwash. Unless there’s some new number Epics I haven’t heard about, how can numbers eat each other?” “I don’t know. I’m not the one who worships them. Or despises them, for that matter.” “You’d worship anything if it would save your hide. That’s why you’re heading to The Dalles.” At this comment, Suit looked slightly offended. “I don’t know what you mean by that comment!” “What I mean is that The Dalles is the only major community around that’s under the control of normal people. If there be any such thing. You don’t want some Epic bossing you around, telling which way to breathe, which way to eat, which way to live. So you’re moving to The Dalles. Sure they’ve got a bureaucracy, and some Epics help run the city, but there, you’ve got a person telling you what to do instead of some Sparking Epic.” “I suppose that’s true. I just can’t understand why you would choose to go to Salem. It’s almost as bad as Corvallis.” “Now there, be kind. Salem is a wonderful place for those with a little initiative. There’s these gladiator battles, see, that epics have against each other in this Astral plane that the city sponsors. The ruler doesn’t do much, and that has some people edgy. It’s a good place for a man with an ax to grind. ” Ax smirked at his play on words. “So why not Corvallis?” “Corvallis is good if you are into politics. I’ve heard that Euphoria’s also gone missing, and that’s got the people in a panic without her giving them the happies all the time. That’s not to mention the series of attacks from monstrous beings granted from some Epic. Sure it’s got good goods growing on plants and a forcefield to protect from attack, but I’m not one for mystery.” “I would’ve never imagined” Suit said dryly. The man sneaking through the foliage on the side had heard enough. These men were no harm to him. He was not to travel with them, but they would do him no harm. He slowly backed away from the pair, going through the forest itself. As he left, he could hear Ax continuing to talk. “And the politics in Corvallis! Ugh, it would drive me nuts. Why the last time I looked at politics was-“ He heard a snap to the side of him. He quickly dove behind a fallen log and glanced over it. He could see someone- someone traveling through the air. An Epic. The man quickly ducked back behind the log again. The Epic moved to the path, and there was an electric sort of twang as the Epic let loose. The man behind the log shuttered. There were plenty of Epics around that roamed free of towns, laying waste to anyone in their paths. It seems the travelers had attracted one of them with their banter. It was a good thing that he had heard the twigs snap to the side of him. Wait. The Epic was flying- how had he heard the twig snap? He looked over the log, cautiously again. No, he didn’t see a path that the Epic had taken, or any branches that he would’ve snapped higher up. Perhaps it was an animal that alerted him to the presence. Whatever caused the sound, he knew he had to keep moving. He traveled forward, more cautious this time. For even the slightest sound could attract an Epic.

when this happens instead of studying for a test (work in progress )

Well, with an 11,000 year time lapse. I have to admit, this is more of a hunch than a proper theory. My sources: Exhibit A: http://theoryland.com/intvmain.php?i=1108#6 Exhibit B: (SH spoilers) So, we know that Hoid having visited Braize (or not) is somehow massively important to the Cosmere Cycle, and we know that Khriss, the "most knowledgeable person about the Cosmere we've met" doesn't know where Yolen is. My theory, assembled on much too little sleep, is that Yolen and Braize are one and the same. Thoughts? Any reasons why my theory is either plausible or impossible? Thanks!

This is a true story. When I was in junior high, we were doing an "experiment" so we could learn about proper graphing, measuring, and reporting techniques before we started the actual experiments. We made paper airplanes and flew them and measured how far they flew. Now, this was on the second floor. In probably aesthetic spots, there were random openings so that things could, in theory, be dropped onto the first floor. Now, we had to do ten "trials," and on my last one, the airplane went into the gap and fell to the first floor. So I went downstairs and got the airplane. Then, I threw it again. Like before, it was looking like it was going to go through the gap. I was thinking, "don't go through, don't go through" because I really didn't want to go back down the stairs. The plane slowed, wobbled a bit over the space, then turned around and landed on the second floor. That was the first and so far last time I have used telekinesis.

So, 2003 is basically thought of in my immediate family as the Year of Hell. There are a few bright spots here and there, because real life just can't manage to be quite that awful, but mostly this is a pretty sad story. People die. So I'm putting it under a spoiler cut to make it easy to skip if you don't want to read it.

"Ho! Patrons of the Crow's Egg!" The drunk dwarf swayed slightly from his precarious perch atop the old battered table, creaking slightly under his weight. He burped before continuing, "My names is Sigurd Hammerhand and I am here to invite you on my GRAND ADVENTURE!" Sigurd caught himself, barely, from toppling over when he threw his arms out wide. "I come to take you on a magnificent quest, a journey to riches and fame beyond your wildest imagination!" Sigurd hiccuped and smiled in satisfaction at his speech. As he opened his mouth to continue his drunken monologue, he heard a man yell from the other side of the common room, "You want riches? Take this and spare the rest of us your babbling!" A rather large coin purse smacked him square in the forehead, knocking him off the table and on to his seat. "Why you Duregar loving son of a Drow! Who threw that! What's your name!" A young man rose from where the coins came from and announced himself as Alvar. He carried himself like a king, a young, arrogant king. Sigurd started across the room ready to put another scar on the pretty boy's face when a much older man stood up and reprimanded the younger for challenging a complete stranger. The older man, who had an impressive beard, introduced himself by a name the dwarf was too drunk to remember. He looked like a cleric of some sort though Sigurd didn't recognize the symbol on his tabard or know anything of a "Martyr". Apologizing for the actions of his companion before turning back, he mentioned something about a crown. That seemed to change Alvar's mood for the better before they both left the tavern. Feeling downtrodden from his unwelcome rejection, Sigurd left the Crow's egg and wandered out onto the dark, damp street of the Foreigner's District. He drunkenly stumbled down the path towards the open area courtyard to get some fresh air and enjoy his pipe in solitude.

After checking the next day’s arena battles and putting down his name and powerset, Snare had sat down at the bar and mused, deep in thought. No one seemed to notice him, or, if they did, no one seemed to give him a second thought, which was why he was surprised when a loud voice suddenly interrupted him. "Excuse me." He turned, seeing a girl standing behind his chair. She was short, maybe ten or eleven years old, and had long black hair. She appeared to be wearing some kind of fancy dress, also black. She kept speaking "Are you Imperum, no wait, Impum? Hang on." She blurred to his eyes, and, an instant later, re-appeared. A child Epic. Intriguing. Were those speed powers or teleportation powers? She started jabbering about someone named Imperium and playing and the fact Snare didn’t have any shoes, ending with asking him if he liked to play. He took a deep breath. “If by play, you mean participate in these death battles that I’ve heard about, then yes. I’ve just signed up, against someone called Caltrop. I’m not Imperium, however. The name’s Snare. You are?”

PAFO up: Kurkistan: [Editor's note: I had some typos/grammatical errors in my initial transcription that are here corrected for consistency with the final transcript, but the meaning remained the same] To restate the scenario in more understandable terms (phase 2 is to use diagrams, if it comes to it and I still don't manage to get it across): Say Cory the cork-thrower is standing besides a train track. Cory is facing North and the train is running from West to East. Cory tosses a cork North up over a passing train. Normally, this cork would go over the train and land on the ground directly opposite Cory to the North. From the frame of reference of Cory and his cork, the train is moving West->East. From the frame of reference of the train, the train isn't moving at all and the cork is moving both South->North and East->West (i.e., Northwest). So if we were to draw a line describing the cork's movement, Cory's line would have the cork moving South->North over a moving train. The train's line would have the cork travelling Southeast->Northwest as it described a diagonal across the train. If there's a bubble on the train, that's where things get complicated. When the bubble hits the cork, does the train's frame of reference "take over" so far as it's direction of travel goes? So far as the train is concerned, nothing really changes: the cork is still describing that same diagonal, just more quickly/slowly. But so far as Cory and his cork are concerned, all the sudden the cork is moving laterally (East->West) corresponding to the train's frame of reference. The question, then, is where the cork lands when all's said and done: does it still land directly North of Cory after it passes over the train, or does it land a bit to the West or East as well? ----- My thoughts/model on this would be that it also lands West/East. If the bubble was a bendalloy bubble, then the corks diagonal passage would be accelerated, meaning that it pops out of the bubble off to the West of where it would have otherwise. A cadmium bubble would still move the cork to the West according to its frame of reference, but because of how slow the bubble itself is in motion the cork would still end up East of Cory. Peter: The bubble's frame of reference would take over while it's inside. But you also need to include the fact that bubbles deflect things. The cork would be deflected both when it enters and when it leaves the bubble. So you can't completely predict the path it will take. - <At this point the conversation kept on for a bit as things grew... complicated. We misunderstood one another [which I take the blame for] on several crucial fronts and ended up talking past one another. Long story short is that I'd been implicitly assuming absolute relativity of reference frames in the cork-bubble system—so while both types of bubble would drag the cork along for a bit, that dragging would also be offset (to varying degrees based on bubble type/compression) by lateral movement of the cork within the bubble. This is wrong.> - Peter: If the train is moving east, and he throws the cork over the train, a bubble that slows the cork down will mean the cork ends up east of him. If the train is moving east, and he throws the cork over the train, a bubble that speeds the cork up will mean the cork ends up on the other side of the train faster than it would have with no bubble. It doesn't move west. If the speed bubble only very slightly increases the flow of time, then the cork could even end up slightly east of him, depending on the speed of the train. So depending on the speed or slowness of the bubble, and the speed of the train, the cork will either end up exactly where the thrower expects it to, but more quickly, slightly east of where he expects, but more quickly, or quite a bit east of where he expects, more slowly. The cork doesn't move west. In fact, I think it's safe to assume that the train is always moving to the east faster than the thrower is throwing the cork to the north. In that case, both types of bubbles will always end up pushing the cork at least somewhat to the east. Let's do the math here. Say the bubble is 10 feet in diameter and the cork toss hits the bubble right in the center. He tossed the cork at 5mph. The bubble is 2x speed. That means the cork goes 10 mph across the train (measuring from the frame of reference of the tosser). The train is moving at 50 mph. The cork crosses the train in 0.682 seconds. In that time the train moves 50 feet to the east. So the cork ends up 50 feet to the east of where the tosser expected it to. If the bubble is 100x speed, the cork goes 500mph across the train, and in that time the train moves 1 foot. The cork ends up 1 foot to the east of where the tosser expected it to, but much faster than he expected. If the bubble is 1/2 speed, then the cork goes 2.5 mph across the train. The cork crosses the train in 2.727 seconds. In that time the train goes 200 feet to the east. The cork ends up 200 feet to the east of where the tosser thought it would end up. If the bubble is 1/100 speed, then the cork goes 0.05 mph across the train. The train moves 1.9 miles in the time it takes the cork to cross the train. The tosser has no idea where it ends up, but he watches it hovering over the train as the train goes off into the distance. ... As far as the cork is concerned, it can't tell the difference whether it's moving through a stationary bubble or a (laterally) moving bubble. From the cork's point of view it moves in a straight line either way. - <Some doodles got involved at one point or another, and it was also confirmed that the path of the cork (barring refraction) would stay the same once it left the bubble, still going directly north> ---------------------- Kurk's Kommentary: Well that's interesting. I'd been assuming relativity of reference frames, but it looks like there needs to be some other mechanism at work to decide how the cork is "really" moving. I don't think this necessarily messes with current FTL models, but it requires some rethinking. The "everything we know" thread will need to be reworked to excise my relativity-based analysis and incorporate this.

Night 8: A Poisonous Friend “This is rather unfortunate,” Exisa said, smiling a little weakly at the Mistrunners surrounding him. He took a step back, edging slowly towards the door, and bumped into something solid. He looked up and saw Lopen's grinning face staring back down at him. That was a sight that would remain in his nightmares. If he was ever lucky enough to have a nightmare again. “I guess you could say that, “Lopen said, his smile growing a little wider as Exisa flinched away from him. “I mean, pretty clear which side these guys are on, right? Your tricks and attempts to get them to kill me didn't work, did they? Think we all know what the score is here. And that cowardly attempt to dodge the blame just proves it, in my opinion.” “Oh, come on,” Exisa replied, rolling eyes eyes a little. “Anyone else woulda done the same, right?” “Perhaps,” Clanky agreed. “But not all of us would be best friends with a Megacorp, would we? Sure, we might all do a few jobs now and then when we're strapped for cash, but this? This mission's about more than wealth. This is about survival!” “Survival?” Exisa asked, incredulously. “What do you call this?!” He gestured around. “There's six of us here, in the middle of some Harmony-forsaken war by that shifty guy hiding behind the screen. He's involved us in his personal fight, and for what? Death and the opportunity for a few Boxings. Utterly stupid.” He shook his head. “Deaths you caused,” Lopen said with a growl. “We'd all still be here if it weren't for you. All resounding successes.” “You know that's not true,” Exisa said. “We're not lucky enough for that. People were always going to die. This was always going to end badly. I just... Accelerated things. And got out,” he added. “Well, I guess that's not true, is it? I tried to. Soon as I got in, I knew it was a mistake, but I could hardly leave, right? You guys would have killed me for that. So I tried the next best thing.” “We're going to kill you now though,” Avis pointed out. “All you've done is get a load of our friends killed.” “Perhaps,” Exisa smiled. “Well, let's get this over with, shall we?” “Oh no you don't,” Lopen muttered, placing a hand on his shoulder and clamping down. “After all you've done, there's no way in hell you're getting a quick death. You're going to tell us everything we want to know.” “I don't think I will, Lopen.” He opened his mouth, revealing a small, blueish capsule, and chomped down on it.” “Dammit!” Lopen shouted as Exisa hit the floor. “Someone make him vomit! Spike the bastard with Feruchemical gold!” But all in vain. They picked him up and tried to force him to regurgitate the poison, but the damage was done, and Exisa slipped away. Lopen kicked him as he hit the ground. “Dammit!” he repeated. A raspy cough drew their attention back to the screen behind them. “Now that your theatre is done,” Feis said, seemingly unconcerned by the image before him, “perhaps we can get on with some work, hm?” Exisa was Well-Connected! Exisa (4): Lopen, Avis, Dragonsight, Clanky Lopen (1): Exisa Player List Night 8 has begun! PMs may be sent. The Night will end on Wednesday at 8PM. Dragonsight has been chosen to select people for the mission! I will need to hear back from him with 4 people by 8PM on Tuesday.

My brother made a bad pun, which was immediately followed up by a deafening crack of thunder from the storm rolling in on top of us. We're not sure if that was a warning to stop punning or God's ba-dum-tss. ...but seriously, if you don't see me the rest of the day it probably means our Internet service provider got zapped.

It also depends on what you turn to once you break. Kaladin realized early on that his life isn't fair because of terrible lighteyes. His life falls apart, his father stealing spheres to send him to school. Then, he has a chance to do something honorable, to enlist in the army to save his brother's life. At this point, he was fractured a bit. That fracture grew when Tien died, and when Amaram stole his Shards. He came to regard lighteyes as dishonorable, as indeed many are, and so tried to be honorable himself, since someone had to. Dalinar took his brother's wish of a unified Alethkar and used that as his motivation to continue, even after losing his wife. Shallan, I can only imagine how her life fell apart, and she turns to the truth about people and the world to keep her purpose in life. The Knights turn to the Ideals not for power, but because they are afraid of who they would become otherwise. Kaladin would become as cruel as the lighteyes who made his life like Braize, Dalinar would be the drunken nobleman he was when Gavilar died, and Shallan would refuse to see what was in front of her, making her unable to fix the problems.

Doesn't make sense to me. Assuming Hoid and Frost are writing each other Letters, and Frost is on Yolen*, then it means Hoid was writing a letter to someone on Braize asking for help with Odium, who is trapped on Braize. Actually, when I put it like that, it does kind of make sense. Let me try that again: If Frost is on the world Odium is trapped on, I wouldn't expect that Odium would let him run around free, sending letters to Hoid and running the 17th Shard. Frost and Rayse know each other, so I don't think Rayse would ignore him the way Ruin ignores Kelsier in Secret History. Now, what about other worlds that could possibly be Yolen renamed? I think it's a great idea that Yolen is hidden because it was renamed - Khriss has found it, she just doesn't know it! I had been considering this possibility already, and here's what I had come up with: Roshar and Scadrial don't have room for dragons. I think we have confirmation that there are no other major landmasses on Roshar, and Scadrial is getting well-enough explored that I don't think there's room for dragons or a third race there. Minor Shardworlds are lame. I don't think it would be a minor Shardworld like Ashyn, First of the Sun, or Threnody, although I can't definitively rule them out. Maybe it's because I suspect Odium first Shattered another Shard on Yolen, causing the remaining Shards to disperse, or maybe it's just because it would be a total letdown. Taldain is tidally locked, so I think that disqualifies it unless something catastrophic happened to Yolen to make it like that. Sel was a place that Odium visited. I don't like speculating on what wasn't said, but it didn't mention a return to Sel, so I don't think Sel can be Yolen. Nalthis is a big world, which we don't know a lot about yet. Still a possibility. Vax is a neverending source of frustration to the community, and just typing the name gets me so upset since we don't know anything about the planet at all. It's definitely on the top of my list. But eventually, I decided that I didn't think Yolen was renamed to another planet. Brandon has cited Asimov's Robot/Galactic Empire/Foundation megaseries as an inspiration for the Cosmere, and one of the Foundation books is about the search for the lost homeworld of humanity: Earth. I think Brandon will give us a hunt-for-Yolen in the last Mistborn trilogy that will be reminiscent of Foundation and Earth, which would preclude it just being another planet that's been renamed. (Then again, Second Foundation was all about hiding the second Foundation in plain sight at the old Galactice capital planet, so renaming Yolen as another planet is also thematically relevant.) *Frost is not a worldhopper, which Brandon defined as anyone who has been to another world. He is also a dragon, which is one of the three races native to Yolen. Frost is from Yolen, and he hasn't left.

What if it is a Horse that developed a bond with a spren?

Hey guys! So Around the Cosmere is back, and what we're doing is each week we're focusing on one part of the site where someone explains what that section of the site is, and what people need to know in order to get started. The first section we're looking at is the Reckoners RP and the Social Groups. Check out Voidus's explanation here! And because this is a site about books, I had a little bit of fun where I rewrote the Reckoners RP explanation into the beginning of a short story. Let me know what you think about it.

So I just finished a rough, first-pass transcription of this signing.

When you accidentally read "wafers filled with chocolate-flavored crem" ...and you lose your appetite.

Here is everyone who has been elevated: 1st Elevation: Haelbarde, Pyra Ghetti, Wilem, Acaelus, Varda, Marcos, Kipper, Sasuke Uchia, Dow, Silverblade 2nd Elevation: Touka, Amari 3rd Elevation: Mind of Akasha EDIT: I am not a skindancer

So there will be more in the future with updates on what's happened in the RP, etc. I'll probably seek a lot more help with those ones, I just wanted this to be a bit of a surprise Coma might be doing some of the RP updates too, so I look forward to a lot more collaborating in future.

And another cycle has gone past without me seriously contributing. Apologies Araris... I blame the folks over at the SteelMinistry for distracting me to theorise about the workings of alomancy... I've got class for the next hour, but the hour after, I'll start working through the player list, and doing some analysis. Pointing out that I've not seen Stink post this cycle. Or Kipper. Gone. Missing. Vanished. Hiding? Invisible? Lost? Whatever it was, he couldn't find Kipper anywhere. He'd given him the slip and foiled his plan. How could he be expected to find the best time and place to prank someone if they left no trace to track!? He was going to have to try something different. He was going to have to look for him outside of the library. At least the weeks of searching the library for Kipper had gained him some knowledge on the nature of fiends. He'd also added a third item to the list - he was going to need one 'Powerful Parody' to make his plan work. So he spent the rest of the month searching every nook and cranny of the short hallway leading to the library for Kipper. This involved lots of sleeping. And eating. The occasional thought may have passed through his head too, though he couldn't be certain. Although he certainly didn't do any of this in the library hall. No, not at all. Much to classy for that. Going to class really did mess with his schedule.

The Stormlight Archives Regency Romance PART NINE The interior of the church was dim and cool, and surprisingly dry. The door entered into a vestibule with rush mats on the floors for visitors to wipe their feet; by the right-hand wall there was a cloakroom area with coat hooks in rows by the wall, an umbrella stand, and a metal boot grate. There were old-fashioned iron torch sconces set into the stone of the wall, but no torches; polished tin chimney lamps hung from them by their handles to give off a steady yellow light. There was a second door that opened into the nave. Shallan drew the fold of tartan off her head respectfully as she stepped into the main body of the church – it arched overhead in a row of pointed vaults; she almost felt as if she had been swallowed by a great beast of monstrous proportions: the grey-white stone eerily resembled the curving parallels of the whales’ ribs that she had seen displayed at Middlefests in her youth. She walked hesitantly through the empty church, passing rows of pews. She was nervous, unprepared to explain away her presence if confronted, and her mind jittered into tangents. Whales’ ribs … she had used whale oil to fill the lamps of home when she sketched at night. It had a strange and unpleasant smell compared to the more neutral naphtha that the Kholins used, but it was much cheaper: whaling was good business in Scotland; many a Scottish man who found that a living could not be earned by the plough took to the sea in hard times … Jushu had once almost been crimped by a crooked boarding master after a number of imprudent wagers… She had reached the end of the church. There was an altar ahead, a towering window of stained glass set in a leaden frame lay behind it; she presumed that when an Ardent led the village prayers, the window would illuminate him with Almighty’s Grace and Light. The window depicted the Almighty in His aspect of benevolence; His hands were open in a pose of benediction. There was a small door by the side of the altar: this must be where the Ardents entered and exited for the service, and led to the private wing containing their personal cells and communal refectory. She pulled the ring handle on the door. It was not locked. Well, the Ardents lived on the patronage of the Duke, and she, with her attachments to both Jasnah and Adolin, could be arguably recognised as a Kholin by association. So it was not so odd for her to poke around this church, when she might very well become its lady benefactress one day. With this thought in mind, she straightened her shoulders as she had been taught from the many painful lessons of Madame Tyn’s, and strode through, head held high. Project confidence. If this will be yours one day, you must act like it is already. And when it is truly yours, then they will never be able to take it away. The inner corridor was silent; she heard the shushing movement of slippered feet somewhere in the distance but this hallway was empty. There were two doors at the end of the hallway. One was sturdy with iron crossbars over the wood and a rush mat on the floor in front; the other was of simple wood with a brass nameplate. The door opened, and a young man with the shaved head and square beard of the Ardentry stepped out. He stopped short at seeing Shallan, whose red hair made unruly by the damp marked her as definitely not a Sister of any Order. “Miss,” he said firmly but politely, “Requests for Elevations and personal guidance should be made through the office around the side. This area is for staff only. There is the exit if you are lost.” He gestured pointedly to the crossbarred door on the left. “I am come from the House – a personal guest, if you will,” said Shallan, with as much cold authority as she could muster. She was trying to imagine Jasnah in her place – Jasnah would not meekly go where she was told if she wanted otherwise. “I do not seek personal guidance. I seek legal counsel, of a private nature.” The Ardent looked her up and down. He was tall, with blue eyes and a straight nose set on an evenly-featured face. Shallan had always thought that it was men and women with no other recourse who took to the Order; all one had to do was read from a book once a week in front of an audience and listen to prayers now and then, and one was guaranteed food and lodging by a patron for the rest of their life. It was not a life of luxury – unless one managed to find the rare and sought-after patron who was pious, wealthy, and generous. But it was a life better than others if one could not plough soil or waves; Shallan had seen a number of returned soldiers and cripples among the Ardentry back home. This Ardent glanced at her blue silk dress, slightly rain-spotted, with its whimsically patterned silk-floss embroidery; the hem of her lower petticoats thankfully covered her walking boots. He took in her straight-backed posture and the hands she had clasped demurely in front of her: they were soft and pale hands, freckled over the back, but lacking the imperfections of red blotchy chapping and healed burn scars of any woman who had ever in her life washed laundry or cooked a meal. He seemed to accept her word - or was not inclined to quarrel - for he knocked on the door with the nameplate. Two sharp raps were followed by his saying loudly: “Brother Kadash, there’s a Lady from the House to see you.” After a minute, she heard a scraping sound from behind the door, then it opened, and a stern looking man with a shaved head peeped out. “What’s this about a Lady?” Shallan gave a shallow curtsey of respect. Ardents were not formally on the social ranking at all; you were supposed to ignore their past status and treat them as equals, as they were the Almighty’s secular representatives, and the Almighty was beyond such mundanities. But this man was the head Ardent: he held second-hand power, but plenty of it – and it paid to be cautious with those who could make much trouble even if they could not directly touch you. “There is a legal matter I should like to discuss in private,” she said, looking him in the eye. Eye contact was important. She did not glance to the side to observe the younger Ardent’s reaction. “Then come in, please, Miss,” said Brother Kadash. He opened the door for her, waved his hand at the seat in front of his desk, and the door was closed. She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. Jasnah analysed situations and deduced the best plan; Madame Tyn relied on variety – she had a catalogue of responses prepared for anything. Shallan had always wanted to emulate both but had the skills and experience of neither. She would have to think quickly, then. Her eyes opened as Brother Kadash found his seat and placed his hands, fingers twined lattice-like, on the desk. “You wanted to speak of matters legal and private?” he asked. “Yes. Um,” said Shallan, thinking furiously. “I am Scottish, you see, and I have pledged my allegiance to a Clan Chief – ah, Duke, I think, in Anglethi equivalence.” “…And?” Brother Kadash smiled benignly. “If you are looking for an expert in Scottish law, perhaps an Anglethi village church will be less useful to you than a hired solicitor in the City. If you come from the House, you will of course have the means available to do so.” Shallan reddened – he was subtly implying that she wasting his time – and tried to control the trembling of her shaking hands; she straightened the drape of the tartan shawl on her shoulders. “I was rather inquiring how an allegiance to one Duke would stand in the event of a marriage to another. One surely cannot have two lords and two House loyalties, can they?” “Ah,” said Kadash with a knowing smile. “A Lady from the House indeed, then. To answer your question: allegiances are divided and defined during the writing of the marriage contract. Usually one person – in most cases, the bride – relinquishes her loyalties and joins her husband’s House. But in the case where the partners are both high in precedence in their respective Houses, there may be an exception made for a dual allegiance - for the purpose of a military alliance or a claim on the union’s children in favour of either House upon their majority. But that is for high-profile marriages worked out on a case-by-case basis by the Ardents in the City court – not my jurisdiction at all. Did that answer your question, my lady?” … Joins her husband’s house… She pulled the tartan closer, twisting the ends of it in her lap. She felt anxious now; she could not name the exact reason for it, but her breath felt like it was drawn spiralling downwards with leaden unease. The tartan smelled faintly of lavender … Malise, her step-mother... “How can a marriage contract be broken?” she suddenly asked. She regretted the question almost immediately: it was too private – one should only ask such from their own privately hired solicitor, preferably a retainer who was sworn to their confidence – and never an Ardent who was beholden to his own patron. “Marriage contracts were not made to be broken.” His reply was firm and neutral; she could not tell if he disapproved or not. “Exceptions can always be found,” said Shallan. She kept her own voice suitably indifferent. “For high-profile marriages, there is usually leverage enough to include specific terms that would nullify a contract if they are not fulfilled. We do not approve of secular considerations in nullifying marriage, but,” he sniffed, “the Ardentry must be pragmatic. Annulments can be granted upon proof of treason, barrenness, infidelity, or inability to provide minimum maintenance. But only if the original contract stipulated a ‘good conduct’ clause. Will that be all, my lady?” Treason, she thought. Oh, Malise, we were too late for you… “There is one other thing,” Shallan said. The whole reason for the visit, which she had forgotten about until now. “When was this church built? I know many churches were built from the stones of more primitive temples of worship, either on the same site or moved to be closer to a village. Was it the case for this one?” Brother Kadash’s twined fingers untwined themselves, his fingers tapped the desktop in surprise. “That is a somewhat unexpected deviation, my lady.” “Cultural and historic matters interest me. I wholeheartedly support the preservation of sites of … local importance.” She met his eyes and inclined her head in a meaningful way. “Ah, yes,” said Brother Kadash, and a genuine smile flitted across his face. “Such matters deserve attention. Ahem. Of course. This church was built when Nodadon II … or was it IV? I am not quite sure actually – built Kholinar Court as a country hunting lodge away from the City. The village was established to support the House and grounds, so it was decided that there must be a church for the use of the villagers and the House residents. That is why we are on the very edge of Courtlea.” “So there was no original pre-Vorin temple?” She hoped she did not appear too insistent. Jasnah had told her to conduct inquiries without raising interest; the organisations who had assassinated her father the King were likely interested in the same information. Brother Kadash frowned. “Not this site, no. This church was built new as the House was. It is definitely a Vorin church by its architecture – no re-dedicated temples would be fit for a King, you see. But…” “…Yes?” “There may have been some primitive structures in the area, used before and during the construction of the House – when this area was just woodland with isolated crofts. In fact, their location may be reported in maps from a survey fifty years ago. We haven’t any newer surveys than that, I’m afraid: the woodlands around the House estates are a game park reserved for the Duke’s disposal. The current Duke is not interested in hunting and the previous one was always too busy for such diversions.” “Those maps would be wonderfully useful,” Shallan said, delighted. “Would it be possible to borrow a copy of the surveys? They will be returned in a timely manner, I promise – I will have a copy made immediately.” “It would please me to treat a generous lady such as yourself with generosity, my lady,” said Kadash. His eyebrows drew up and down suggestively. Blessed Heralds, he lays it on thick, thought Shallan. “Such generosity will not go forgotten.” “Then I shall send a Brother to fetch them for you. Just a moment,” he said, as he stood and tugged at a rope to the right of his desk. It bounced up and down on a pulley system built into wall for a few moments, then stilled. A minute later, there was a knock at the door. Kadash went to open it; Shallan heard a whispered conversation and then there were retreating footsteps. He returned to his desk and sat down. “You and our good Duke, then…?” said Brother Kadash, casting for a response to fill the silence. A light-handed interrogation, then; Shallan was used to this sort of “conversation” from Jasnah, who was always eager for information but never liked to look less than informed. “We have an … understanding. No contracts have been drawn as yet, hence the questions. Thank you for that, it may prove invaluable,” said Shallan, smiling at him and tucking of stray strand of hair behind her hear. “I am a personal guest at the House currently; if there are any more papers you find relevant to my line of investigation, they would be greatly appreciated if sent on.” Kadash looked amused. “A personal guest, hah, the others never got that far–“ There came a knock, and the door opened. The young Ardent again, with a thick envelope closed with strings tucked under one arm. He looked at Brother Kadash and then at Shallan, and his eyes narrowed. “I have the maps,” said the Ardent. He approached the desk and offered them to Brother Kadash. “For the lady, Kabsal,” directed Kadash. The young Ardent looked at Shallan, and hesitated. She thought he was going to run; she had seen fear and hesitation like that in a young man’s eyes before, once… He offered the maps to Shallan; she took them before he could change his mind. She stood. “Thank you, Brother Kadash, Brother Kabsal. You have been most helpful today; I am pleased to make your acquaintance, truly. These maps will be returned safe and sound, have no worry.” Shallan nodded to them, and slipped the envelope into her satchel, doing up the side buckle. It barely fit. “A church is the centre of the village … well, not this village, perhaps – but a fine one like this ought not be neglected. Good day, gentlemen, I must take my leave.” She curtsied, they inclined their heads respectfully to her – Ardents were not expected to bow in court fashion. Kabsal held the door open and followed her into the hallway. “You must go around the side entrance to the office when you call on Brother Kadash, Lady,” he said, as he opened the door leading to the nave. “Those found wandering where they are unwanted are … unwelcome.” “Thank you. I shall make a note of it,” Shallan replied noncommittally. She stepped through, and the door closed behind her with a heavy thunk. She thought she heard the grating sound of bolts sliding home. What a strange man – it was almost like he did not want her to have the maps, and was irritated that she had managed to get them. The nave of the church was still empty. It was too large to be lit by chimney lamps except when an Ardent was leading the weekly prayer – when the Family was represented and the village was in attendance. There were two lamps on either side of the altar. Most of the light came from the stained glass window: soft and grey light that was diffused by the soft grey rainclouds outside, then filtered through the window design; it was fashioned of alternating panes of clear and opaque glass. She stepped up to the altar and inspected the base of the window: the very bottom frame of it started at head height, and there was an inscription carved in an antiquated script into the row of stones below – it was hard to read and half of it had been eroded into illegibility. “Perpetual … something… Tanavast bestowed Jezerezeh with his … honour and wisdom? Dignity and gravity combined something something Stormfather; may the light of his grace stand solid against the … something,” she read. She pulled out her sketchbook and wrote it down, then sat down on the front pew closest to the altar; she opened her pencil box and started copying the design of the window. To see the top of it, she had to crane her head so far that the back of it touched the backrest of the pew. It was peaceful in the church, silent and still with the occasional hush-hushing of draughts along the rows of half-lit pews. The high arched vaults of the stone beast’s stomach did not seem so oppressive now to Shallan, whose mood had vastly improved after completing her task with triumph. She sketched peacefully, relaxing into a pleasant art-induced reverie while she shaped and shaded the many stained glass panels in white chalk and grey charcoal. All alone – just her and the Almighty in an empty hall that seemed now a great protector rather than monster: it held her safe against the cold rain and cold people of the outside world. Author’s Notes: This is exposition and no romance. Sorry guys. I felt like the research needed to mean something if Shallan wanted to be anything more than a generic female romance protag. The history of whaling in Scotland is pretty period accurate here. Sailing was a tough job and sailors often jumped ship when they hit port. For ships to have enough men to sail and whale, there were people who would kidnap, or "press gang" men into service. Once they beat you up and stole your clothes and wallet, and you woke up on a ship, there was no proof that you had rich parents. I thought it was a realistic way to explain a noble boy being enslaved. “Any woman who had ever in her life washed laundry or cooked a meal.” – working women washed with lye soap and used metal boxes with fire inside to cook their food. By the time a woman reached marriage age, you could probably tell what class she was just by looking at her skin. Ardents in the real SA wrote and approved betrothal and marriage contracts. However, in this AU, secular lawyers also exist. Vorin churches look like Gothic churches to fit the setting. Shallan is too nearsighted to realise that a proof of treason would have saved Malise but ruined the Davar children. The Loch Davar estate would have gone to Elhokar as forfeit. It is possible that Malise knew and refused to turn in Lin Davar funding rebels for this reason. Shallan will tolerate Adolin’s wandering eye just in case she needs to use “infidelity” as a reason to annul a marriage. Yes, Kabsal is interested in the information that Shallan is after. He is not very nice on first impression, because in this AU Shallan is too interested in Adolin for a hot priest to attract her. And really, why make it a love square when Kaladin has already taken the role of "boy with secrets".

I'm pretty sure that there's a consensus that this rattle is referring to Shallan and Kaladin coming out of the chasms with the gemheart of the slain chasmfiend. edit:ninja'd

I like it, but in a way I always interpreted that Death Rattle to be about Shallan and Kaladin when they are in the chasms together and they emerge with the Gemheart, after defeating the Chasmfiend. The true glory part is up for debate as to what it refers to. The "two men" part doesnt really fit unless you go with the general term of "men" to mean humanity. I guess I am trying to shove a square block through a round hole, but its the closest thing i can find.

Not for nothing, but I feel like if your movie title starts with "The Princess..." and then is not immediately followed by the word "Bride" then something has gone awry. Basically:

Hi all, I am relatively new to the Cosmere, as I only started reading last fall. I've finished almost all of the current cosmere books except for Bands of Mourning (about to crack that one open right now) and one or two of the novellas. I finished WoR last night and I am currently OBSESSED with finally having the chance to look for answers to my burning questions. Anyways, nice to meet you all, happy to finally be able to participate in some more in depth discussion of what are quickly becoming my favorite books. Danielle

I'm having one of those days where I'm worrying about whether or not people like me, and am I annoying, and should I just stop being me, followed by hyperventillation. Yay.

I'm...kinda tossing a concept for something around. Probably a short story (or maybe just something to post as an AMA in this forum)... I was thinking it might be fun to do a story about a body double/political decoy; think Padmé's handmaiden in the Prequel films. I figure that would have the potential for an interesting relationship, but other than the idea of a main character who is in that position? I have nothing. Kinda throwing around some idea's - it'd probably be fantasy, since I like that genre, but I'm trying to figure out a cool story to tell with a character with that background.

17th Shard (Organization): -Frost. Possible leader. Dragon from Yolen. Sender of "The Letter" In WoK epigraphs. (Not technically a Worldhopper) -Khriss. Scientist from Taldain. Dark skin and dark hair in a braid. Writer of the Ars Arcanums. Seen in Secret History, White Sand and Bands of Mourning. -Nazh. A Threnodite in the employ of Khriss. May not be a full member of the 17th Shard. Seen in Secret History and Words of Radiance. Annotates maps and drawings. Most likely referenced in Bands of Mourning broadsheets. -Galladon. Sellish Duladen Elantrian. Seen on Roshar looking for Hoid. -Demoux. Former general of The Last Emperor of The Final Empire, Scadrial. Also seen on Roshar looking for Hoid. Possibly in a romantic relationship, speculated to be the Terriswoman Worldhopper. Atium Misting. -Baon. From Taldain. Seen on Roshar looking for Hoid. Ghostbloods: -Thaidakar. Possible leader of the Ghostbloods, and therefore a potential Worldhopper. -Iyatil. South Scadrian Hunter in descent, but raised on a different planet. Babsk to Mraize. Seen in Words of Radiance. -Mraize. Rosharan Thaylen. Collects various artifacts from several Shardworlds. Confirmed Worldhopper. Apprentice to Iyatil. Others: -Kelsier (Probably. So likely that I will literally not believe it if it turns out he's not). Survivor of Hathsin. Sliver of Preservation. The Sovereign. Former Mistborn. Hemalurgic user. Fullborn. - Aslydin. Possible Terriswoman Worldhopper. Possible romantic relationship with Demoux. -Hoid/Wit/Dust/Topaz/Cephandrius Maxatori/Midius. Yolish in origin. Witnessed the Shattering of Adonalsium. Access to many magics including but not limited to: Yolish Lightweaving, Breaths (at least 200), Allomancy, Feruchemy (probably through knowledge of unkeyed metalminds from South Scadrial), Moon Scepter. Seen or referenced in most books. Goals unknown. -Vasher/Zahel/Kalad/Peacegiver/Warbreaker. Returned from Nalthis. One of the Five Scholars. Co-forger of Nightblood. Seen in Warbreaker and Words of Radiance. -The Ire. Ancient Elantrian Worldhoppers. Own a castle in the Cognitive Realm on the border of Scadrial and an unknown planet. Intended to pick up the Shard of Preservation. Access to unknown magics and the Dor. -Unknown Kandra(s). -Nightblood. Forged by the Fives Scholars as an Awakened Sword with the Intent to Destroy Evil. Currently in the possession of Szeth, the Assassin in White. Seen on Nalthis and Roshar. -Jasnah. Possible Worldhopper. Elsecaller from Roshar. Can enter the Cognitive Realm from anywhere. Entered fully when presumed dead, and possibly Worldhopped much like Kelsier. Most likely knows about other planets. -Felt. Seen on Scadrial as the Venture master spy, and on Roshar as a scout. Unknown motives. Possibly WalDo due to his spy nature. Confirmed by Brandon at JordanCon. Edited for some corrections and additions.

Between that and Baxter she could probably be calmed down but I sense a serious dispute between her and Arsenal later, which is likely going to have serious consequences whatever happens. Will Lucy Lockser become the benevolent saint of the Dalles, redeemed Epic and helper of the people? Aided by her trusty sidekick Lord Dupin, who became so popular that it is not an uncommon expression to wish someone well by saying 'may you by touched by his squishy appendages'? Or will she become Scribbler: Assasin of Epics and scourge of the Dalles, letting the innocents of the city suffer so long as she can purge Epics from the city one by one, helped by her second in command Lord Dupin whose fearsome visage inspires such terror in all that meet him that his very existence becomes a curse. 'By Dupins inksac!'?

I doubt it's agreed that it's possible in a practical situation. Maybe in a very carefully controlled scenario where the gun is carefully aimed and calibrated and the sword is placed in its path, not with unknown guns in an unknown setting and deflecting several at once (Which is basically impossible) The problem is that it's impossible to perfectly predict the path of a bullet, actual marksmen who are literally holding the gun don't always hit dead on where they're aiming, to be able to briefly glance at a gun and do so and move in time to deflect is quite frankly insane. I get that you're trying to make a cool character here but you need to keep it in the bounds of realism, swords are already cool, killing a bunch of people with swords is awesome, you don't need to turn him into a jedi.

If you think about it, Bert is kind of like Wayne.

Hello all and greetings to everyone, welcome to the tautology club! The tautology club is a super exclusive club that you can only join by joining the tautology club. *The Tautology club is not affiliated with the Dark Alley because it is unaffiliated with the Dark Alley.

SPOILER WARNING: While this theory does contain spoiler information for many of the cosmere books, the main theory itself is only concerned with Stormlight Archive and all cosmere spoilers (including Words of Radiance) are in spoiler tags. Feel free to read the theory and peruse and open spoilers as you feel fit! Disclaimer: This is not the kind of theory in which I gleefully proclaim that I have “figured it all out” and have indisputable evidence to back up my claims. This is a shot-in-the-dark, guesswork kind of theory. A “wouldn’t it be cool if” kind of theory. Got it? Basically, I was in cosmere chat and was suddenly struck by an idea. See, we still don’t know much about the Stormlight Archive and its overall plot. We know that Odium is a bad guy and he is trying to accomplish something. We know that the Knights Radiant are returning because of some reason. We know that there’s three shards but we don’t really know what each of them are doing or have done or what their goals are. As far as what the big arcs of this series are going to be, what the main goal of our antagonist is, we’re actually sitting quite a bit in the dark. At the moment, the series is concerned with fairly small scale things, arcs relating to individual characters or single countries or such. But there’s hints and stirrings that this is going to get big. So, here’s my humble guess: There is something wrong with Roshar’s afterlife which needs to be fixed or solved. This will be a major part of the plot for The Stormlight Archive. There’s a few different reasons why I’m coming up with this. I’m going to put these things in spoiler tags just to keep things neat and organized, because I dislike huge blocks of text. Some of them have spoilers within them, others just have info. Textual Reasons 1.The Tranquiline Halls (no WoR spoilers) 2.Braize and Damnation (one WoR quote, not really spoilery) 3.Other Cosmere Afterlife Hints Metatextual Reasons 1.It Hasn’t Been Done Before 2.Brandon Is A Troll There’s more I could get into her with all of this, and perhaps this thread will bring up some of those discussions, but I think that’s enough for an opening post. Fanfic writer that I am, I’ve been tossing around possibilities of situations if this does turn out to be the case, some heartwarming, some tragic – because this is me after all, and I’ve got to live up to my reputation as the fandom monster right? So, thoughts, opinions, more evidence, disputes, theological debates? What are you guys thinking about all of this? Do you think it’s possible? Do you think it’s likely? Do we all just really want to see Tien and Kaladin reunite? Give me some of your responses! Update: July 2016 Hello to all who have come to check out this theory post after it was on the Featured Theories news (thank you, @Windrunner, I am extremely flattered). However, there have been a few books released since I first typed up this theory way back in... 2014 was it? And boy were some of those books doozies when it came to this theory and its implications. So, here's a quick update on how this theory is faring thus far: 1. New Information (Bands of Mourning and Secret History spoilers!)

Hey, all. Brandon here. With the release of this book, there have been some minor updates to continuity that I think some of you will find relevant. The big one has to do with Hoid's visit to Terris in The Well of Ascension. For those unfamiliar with the backstory, this little behind-the-scenes action has been a source of some consistent problems. The outline, and original draft, of Well had Vin and Elend traveling up to Terris, then into the mountains, to find the Well itself. This was a huge momentum killer in the story. Having your cityscape-focused book suddenly turn into a traveling quest fantasy for a few chapters felt very out of place, and required too much strange time-jumping to make it work. In revisions, I set about finding a way to repair this, and to overlap the Well of Ascension discovery with Vin's return to Luthadel. The end result worked much better, but I was forced to cut Hoid's cameo. (In the form of footsteps in the snow and frost leading to the Well, hinting that someone had been there just before her.) I knew where Hoid was, and added in the cameo of him with the Terris people—with the plan still being that he visited the Well sometime during the days after Vin's return to the city. Well, in working on Secret History, I found that this had a problem with it. Hoid had to already know where the Well is, because after the destruction of the Pits, he'd need to use the Well to return to Scadrial after leaving in the middle of book one to attend to certain other events. If you've read the story, you know this is how I proceeded. Official continuity is that Hoid went up to Terris after visiting the Well, as he had things to do there. He did not go looking for the Well. This doesn't change continuity for any of the books, though it does render one of the annotations for Well obsolete. Otherwise, I'm quite pleased about this novella. I wasn't certain how it would go, writing something using threads I'd left dangling ten years ago. (You should thank the beta readers, who are all Sharders I believe, for their continuity help. They made me aware pf several things I needed to make much more clear from the original draft, so that canon would be more crisp.) I know there has been a lot of discussion regarding which times when someone appears to hear Kelsier's voice were actually Kelsier. The story offers the official canon for this as well. It's nice to finally be able to give the answers to some longtime fan questions, such as what spooked Vin during her inspection of Hoid and what was up with Preservation and the Mist Spirit. It's entirely possible that, despite our efforts, we slipped up and made some continuity error here or there. If so, I'm terribly sorry! This one has been particularly challenging to do. Thanks, as always, for reading.

This may be old news to everyone but I haven't seen it as a topic so I figured I'd throw it out there. We learned from Allik that there are persons in Southern Scadrial society called FireMothers and FireFathers who store body heat in brassminds for the rest of society to use and survive the cold. This next thought is what immediately came to mind when I read "FireMothers and FireFathers". These men and women are literally standing in raging fires and just storing all the heat that would otherwise burn their bodies to a crisp. The reason I think they're literally in the fires is because that would be the fastest way to store a ton of heat for an entire nation. Granted, they could just be really close to the fire but it would be way cooler to have them in the fire and be unharmed. I think the reasoning is sound that they can do this since Marsh probably only survived the terrible circumstances of the Catacendre outside of a cave because he could withstand the terrible heat by storing in a brass mind. And if the heat from the sun can reach your body and be immediately stored to prevent your own demise, then I think it makes sense the same can be done with standing in a fire and immediately storing that heat. Plus, how different is it than Sazed storing in a brassmind on a hot day? The heat from the sun reaching his skin and he's storing it away for later. The Marsh example is more of my reasoning why it'd work in such an extreme condition. Anyone else think this?

Like many Sanderson readers I both work and play a lot at my computer stationary. So i might think "Storing speed is easy" but filling a mind while mostly stationary will not add much because you aren't moving. So if I'm moving 0 mph and store 25% of it I have added 25% of 0 mph which is 0 mph. In order to fill my mind I need to be moving

I dream very frequently about flying. But even my dream self knows I'm really not supposed to be flying, so it's difficult. I always feel like I'm treading water in molasses. I remember one time I had this dream where Smaug was trying to burn my house down, so I jumped out the 2nd-story window, turned into a dragon myself, and tried to chase him off by shooting fire at him. Didn't really work since his scales were super tough and fire-resistant, and I'm sure if anybody else had seen what I was seeing that night, it would have looked ridiculous, because I was this cutesy little dragon like Toothless trying to chase off ginormous ferocious-looking Smaug. XD

Just want to mention that I woke up incredibly disappointed this morning. I dreamed that a signing I went to got disrupted by a police raid, so Brandon had to come spend the night at my house. He gave me 20 minutes to ask questions, and I had just pulled out the Ultimate List when I woke up :-(

From when Kelsier first made it to the Fortress:

Oh don't you even. An ape trying to fly around would destroy the city faster and more effectively than King Kong ever did. As for a pewter compounder... Some men just want to watch apes burn (pewter).

Guys. We have a Smedry over here.

...probably a picture of Darth Maul, somehow catapultated from earth (or a galaxy, far, far away) to Scadrial.

Will (Shivertongue) creates the original artwork for the site. He's an admin, but recently is very busy and doesn't post much. Well, it is an MS in Mathematics. Do they even have Masters of Arts in Math? xD A great question though! The answer comes down to a few things. It mainly stems from me really disliking math research. I could never find an area that I liked, and the work never appealed to me. For this reason, I got my Master's (which in math, you don't do a research thesis for your Master's, which was a huge plus) instead of my PhD. After teaching and making quite a lot more money than a GTA, I can't go back to a TA stipend. I also just really have no interest in doing research for at least another four years, then being a postdoc, and basically being miserable. I enjoy teaching and am passionate about mathematics, so it seems like a good place for me. It also helps that I generally find the work easy. (Mathematics and getting a Master's was kind of the lazy, easy path for me, which sounds ludicrous, but it totally was.) I'll be an adjunct professor at some university for a while. Eventually my plan is to be a fantasy author full-time, and I think doing this will give me sufficient free time to do that. Why did I stay at MSU? I'm not sure how many places I applied to nearing graduation, but I remember that I planned to stay here that summer for my very easy summer job, so I hadn't applied to much. I applied to be a director of MSU's math learning center, as the two co-directors were retiring simultaneously. I am told that they were impressed with my interview, but the positions went to more experienced people. Fortunately, a week later, they offered me a position being a supervisor in the math learning center, which in exchange for being in there ten hours a week, it counted as a class. I also got enough classes so I was essentially full-time. It was a sweet deal, and this next year I am guaranteed full-time. I continued here because I didn't have much money to move and had no other job offers. They needed me to make my decision rapidly, so I accepted rather than waiting for another potential job. I think it will look very good to have a lot of teaching experience, so I'll be staying for this year, and possibly the next. I do want to move into a bigger city, as this one is getting old. I have no real opinion upon research, as I have no experience in that regard. There is certainly a lot of pressure to publish, but I think that scholarly research will correct any mistakes, given enough time. My university certainly likes research, but my department seems pretty relaxed, for the most part, and makes teaching an extremely high priority.

A psychopathic former death row inmate teaches a paranoid girl how to eat metal in an attempt to topple the government.