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The Horneater origin story, as told by Rock and paraphrased by me, goes something like this: "Always persecuted by the [rest of the] humans, the Horneaters' ancestors asked various spren for help. These spren offered to grant them their homes as their own, but warned that the [rest of the] humans also persecuted their kind (Kaladin scoffs at the idea of Horneaters being chopped down by woodsmen). The 'spren' of the mountain refuses to help them until they have proven they can cultivate a home for themselves on their barren slopes. When they do so, [she] it grants them the home (which they had already made for themselves) that allowed them to live in relative peace alongside the [rest of the] humans." I believe this is the story of a group of listeners that succeed in breaking from the cycle of desolations by convincing Cultivation to give them a human-like and -compatible form, thereby allowing interbreeding. I'll break this down into notions: 1) The persecution by [other] humans definitely aligns with the desolations. 2) All their pleas to the Spren are answered in terms of transformation: The suggestion that, by living in the forest, they would be targeted by woodsmen, or by living in the sea they would be targeted by fisherman, indicates that in those cases they would become wood or fish. Sounds like Listener forms to me. 3) When they went to the mountains they were not offered such an obvious transformation, and were basically asked to Cultivate the peaks into somewhere habitable in exchange for being sheltered from the persecution mentioned in part 1). On the face of it this seems like the weakest offer, seeming to be 'if you make a home for yourself, thereby making this place easily habitable by humans (and therefore accessible to the ones persecuting you), I'll let you live there'. However, we know there is a Shardpool in the middle of the Horneater peaks, and the suggestion has been that it is Cultivation's, what with all the surprisingly habitable ecosystem. Perhaps, in fleeing to the peaks and Cultivating it into a home, a group of Listeners convinced Cultivation to grant them a human-like (and -compatible) form. It was this that made them safe from the humans, with whom they could now breed to dilute their hereditary vulnerability to Odium whilst maintaining their culture (hence the singing, and treating spren as gods). What do you guys think?

Soaring into the dark alley on self-granted lines of blue light, the small man lands before the void. His bones crunch from the impact, but immediately knit together. He approaches the Void at Feruchemical speed, his dark blue robe rippling in the fluorescent glow of the mist- like stormlight rising from his skin. "I have done what you asked..." He rasps to the Void in a heavy Scottish accent. "And..." MY GREAT CONTRIBUTION TO THE SCIENCE OF HEMALURGY-- Drumroll- I have gained ethical licensing for our "baking experiment"!!! *Fanfare* Hemalurgy.docx *Trumpets* He awaits the approval of the Void.

It really does depend on the cat. I've met cats who disdain humans. I've had a cat who could sense when I was experiencing menstrual cramps and would turn herself into a purring kittycat heating pad to make me feel better. (She was not a lap cat any other time.) I have even met a cat who hated all humans with a fiery burning passion, save her one chosen human, who would hiss at and attempt to bite anyone who got too near who wasn't the Chosen One. ...until the day I wandered in with a bamboo flute and started playing and she decided that my offering was worthy enough for her to rub up against my ankles and purr. (You should have seen the Chosen One's wife. She had to pick her jaw up off the floor.) The point is, cats are very much individual personalities and it's disingenuous to try to throw them all in a box together.

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....... Who wouldn't want cookies like that? Seriously?

I now exist! You have read this worthless line of text, it is now in your brain, and you have no way of removing it!

Don't eat the cookies? why not? Cookies are wonderful and sweet and tasty! Why not have cookies? Cookies are great! If someone offers you cookies, you definitely need to take them. I took the cookies, and look at me! I'm doing great! @Secrets, we need some more cookies over here.

How would I make a sale? Find a new "customer" and have them come down the dark alley o' baking?

Another soul under @Secrets belt, I have partaken of the forbidden cookie. Although I am no longer... "properly" human... I shall devote myself to the culinary arts. BTW- how many spikes did Telsin have? I think Suit had three.

I am sorry my friend.

I sincerely apologize for my misnaming of the ugly lizard crab thing. Also...

Cookies or Brussels Sprouts...

Soundly defeated through the power of brussels sprouts...

Favorite character- Wayne or Hoid Cookies- What cookies? I know no cookies!

Thanks!

Thank you everyone! I would have to say... ooh.. uh... I think that I would have to say that Words of Radiance is my favorite! That's a hard question (So far...)

I have read a lot of this forum, (no contrast to how much I read the books) and am now getting an account. I think that I will probably focus a lot on stuff like Mistborn cosmere hints, though I love the whole thing! PS: (I have not read Warbreaker, so I will have to see what I can pick up.) PPS: How do I get titles?

"So the next time you feel stressed, think of the sloth. They don't do crem and they haven't gone extinct. You can afford to take a nap." —True Facts Videos

Hithon wasn’t a fool. He knew that the steps up that platform would be steps sorely regretted in his future. It wasn’t a question of if, only a question of how. Shaking his head, he forced the darkness back, and tried to consider once more. He was an invisible man. Unless a man sought him in particular, he could stand still in a room and never be noticed. In a crowded marketplace? His pursuers would do best to wring their hands and give up. There was no power at work here, no Old Magic or...Radiant magic. He was simply a man who knew how to be unremarkable. It was a skill that had kept him alive. An invisible man had no business wanting to be a Knight Radiant. A soldier, a hero. To consider it was madness. The darkness laughed at him. He was no hero. The darkness mocked him, thrashing around him. Reveling in the perpetual dark. Hithon gritted his teeth. He would not fall today. He did his best to shut it out, day by day. That oppressive, leering darkness. Even though he had had to fight them every waking moment of his life, it never got easier. Even after two years. It was a torture that he supposed no man could ever truly get used to. It was madness. And yet. He found himself pressed between the crowd, feeling his way to the platform. It was not difficult to find his way. Highprince Kholin was on a raised dais, and while he did not shout, his voice carried. Orienting himself in the right direction, he found the end of the line of hopefuls. He felt the presence of many spren nearby. Awespren, anticipationspren, some gloryspren. He couldn’t see them, but their presence was clear. With every step he took, the darkness would thrash more, it’s frantic battering causing him to stumble more than once. And. the closer he got to the dais, the weaker the attacks became. This was why he strode up the dais now, why he allowed the eyes of the crowd to rest on him. Atop the platform, he felt the imposing presence of the Highprince, and stood at his best approximation in front of him. He looked straight ahead, and he knew the moment the Highprince noticed his eyes. His eyes that were a milky white, devoid of that spark of life. To his credit, the Highprince did not comment on it, and Hithon respected the man for that. Kholin touched his shoulder, merely asking: “Speak the words.” Hithon did not hesitate. “My Life before Death.” This was simple. Practiced. Any doubt he held he banished to say the next line. “My Strength before Weakness.” And finally. “My Journey before destination.” The rumbling of the Highprince’s voice. “Breath deep, and know your heart be true.” Hithon breathed. And he smiled. The cloak that the Highprince wrapped around him was nothing. The cheers of the watching crowd were worthless. The fact that he was now a Knight meant nothing to him. There was only one reason he had chosen to walk the fool’s journey. One reason why he had come to the Highprince and his men. When he had been working alone, the monsters would stalk him. When the Highprince had come, the darkness had drawn back. As the storm came to life inside him now, the shadows screamed and dissolved into the light.

So they're the ones who are going to pay for Trump's wall!

Oh mighty ... BAKER! I wish to join your ahhmmm.... guild! baking guild!

Here I would like to compile a list of cosmere references, implications, just anything you want for any of the Mistborn, Era 2 books. Theories and speculations are welcome! Please, this is a continuing list! Try to find as many obscure or not references and post them here, this should be very useful for future purposes!

My pet peeve: a person registering five accounts and upvoting their own content. Why? "I was just messing around" they say. Yeah, you're banned, bro...

The launch codes had arrived. Niobe hadn’t expected Mi9 to comply, but they had done as asked. Their loss. Nine assault rifles, all loaded, at least two stuffed in each coat pocket. The long-range bomber was set up facing the office as planned. Niobe picked up the pictures of N and Mi9’s high school girlfriends. Cute. They chuckled to themself and walked out the door, leaving it unlocked behind them. They doubted they’d be returning. The first port of call was getting those two out of the damnation closet they’d locked themselves in. Fortunately, Niobe had some ideas about that. They walked into the front entrance of MI9. “Agent Niobe, how good to see you.” The receptionist said, grinning. A nice looking lad. Niobe had probably interacted with them at some point in the past. “Here to see N.” “N? I believe she’s busy dealing with her sister right now.” “Even better. Where is she?” “In her office.” “Thank you, I know the way from here.” Niobe got into the elevator. “Get your sister for me. And her friend.” “Sorry, what, Agent Niobe?” N replied. Seems like she was going to resist. Niobe pulled a pistol out of their jacket. “Get your sister from that storming closet and bring her here.” “I don’t have the key.” “You what?” “I don’t have the key.” “For storm’s sake!” Niobe cried out. They pulled the trigger. “I guess I’ll be getting them myself.” Gunshots. The lock came off and the door opened almost immediately, with both the Sheep and Mi9 tumbling out and sprawling on the ground in a tangle. Sheep looked up and immediately looked down again when she saw the gun pointed right in her face. “A-agent Niobe. Thank you for getting us out of there. You don’t happen to have any water on you, do you?” “Water?!” Mi9 perked up. “I’m afraid not.” Niobe replied. They took the pictures out from their pocket and threw them onto the ground where Sheep and Mi9 were sitting looking dazed, recuperating from their unusually long stay in the closet. Mi9 noticed them first. “You weren’t kidding, eh?” “Not at all.” “So you really are challenging us?” “Yes. I am here to kill you both.” “Mind giving us a breather before you do that?” Sheep asked. Niobe sighed. “So be it.” They turned and walked over to the window, looking out over the Thames and at the buildings beyond. It was so beautiful and yet so… awful. A click sound behind them. They turned to find both Sheep and Mi9 with guns pointed at them. “I have many explosive devices throughout the building as well as bombers ready to blow this place to kingdom come. You do not want to shoot me.” “We’ll be the ones to decide that,” the two said in unison. Niobe died. The window smashed behind them. They fell forward. Neither pistol had been fired. Sheep ran over to the window. A figure stood down on the other side of the river, too small to make out the details, but big enough to see that they were holding a rifle. They waved. A notification noise. YOU’RE WELCOME FOR THAT ONE - ARIN & DESMOND In capitals. On the screen. The building blew up. Sheep and Mi9 were thrown backwards, falling to the ground as it collapsed around them. The wall fell in beside them and sparks flew across the room as the computer bank folded over itself, snapping the electronics within and breaking the circuits. It took less than a second for Sheep to be back on her feet, pistol in hand. She pointed it down at Mi9. “This wasn’t me, Sheep.” “I know. It would be stupid of me not to take advantage of this, however. You found me out.” “I what?” “You found me out. I am Aries Mi9.” “You are?!” Sheep sighed. “I thought you knew….” “Well I claimed you were, but how could I be sure?!” Sheep sighed even harder. “Never mind.” She fired a shot to Mi9’s side. “I don’t want to kill you, Mi9. You are a friend, even if on an opposing side. But if you try to stop me, you will die.” She turned to go away. “Sheep… answer me one last thing. Who is Gemini?” Sheep turned back and chuckled. “Gemini? Only time can truly tell that.” And with that she was gone. -------------------------------------------------------------- This is the endgame. With me or against me, time is running out. Your sides are meaningless. Find the Double Agents or die trying, agents. --------------------------------------------------------------- Seonid was lynched! They were a Spy "Hacker" Vote tally: Seonid (3): Amanuensis, Arinian, Magestar Drake Marshall (1): Daniyah Cycle 7 has started! You have 21 hours! Player List:

Hi all you wonderful peoples. New here.. 20+ year fan of WoT, Finally pulled kicking and screaming away from the teat of Wheel of Time into the Cosmere by Brandon Sanderson's Mental Snake Charming. I am looking for a List (or looking to make a list if one doesn't exist) of the Various Power Factions on Roshar. i.e. The Sons of Honor, the Envisigers, the Ghostbloods, the Diagrammers, Possibly the Amians (both types together or seperate?), the Various WorldHoppers that don't fall into Rosharan Specific groups (17th sharders, Silverlight Archivists, etc...) Just so we have one place to track their activities, members, and possible motives. If there is one, please point it out (I tried searching, and found various comments on many different threads, but not a thread specifically about them with the info in one place), If there isn't one what should I be aware of or wary of before trying to make this topic thread?

My Friends, I believe I have a good response to the hypothetical dilemma posted above, and not surprisingly, it is a combination of the wisdom of various Sharders who have been kind enough to post. I love to theorize about the future, but if a person truly believes they are correct, I think a new standard is required. Fortunately, Sanderson's worlds are so vast and intricate, that there are a million theories to discuss with what is given as fact, and what could be in the future, so I tip a hat to the opinions of @Pagerunner and @Quiver. However, @Landis963 and @Belzedar most closely reflect my own views on the matter, and I believe would preserve the experience we all look for in the moments of "Awesomeness". Therefore, to follow the Zeroth Law of Sanderson, and to ere on the side of Awesomeness, I would postulate the following response: 1: Following @randuirs advise, I would have taken a picture with the main reveal including today's Deseret News paper for date verification. This is much easier than encrypting and keying- old ways are good ways!). Proof of timing and scope is needed for hypothetical credibility and to keep people from thinking or saying "What a dope! Says he has a great prediction with bad spoilers, but won't tell anyone!". 2. I would create several ancillary questions to be posted in public forums that would verify the kernels of the prediction using known breadcrumbs and published information. I would NOT however do so in an order or time that would lead to an obvious reveal of the prediction. This is needed to verify prediction, as well as a chance to put friends on the right footing to make the same discovery, without dashing to pieces the match of wits with the author, who always holds the upperhand. 3. Ask two very simple and direct questions of Brandon, in a private setting. If they get RAFOd, I will say no more to other people. If they get RAFOd with a big smile (he loves to do that when people guess what he has hinted at but doesn't want the future plots revealed), I too would smile and say no more to other people. If it does NOT get RAFOd or if is discussed at all, I would then immediately post on a more public forum the question and answer, and post the photo with the date with it. The boards would then explode with discussion on a hundred new topics related to it. Once again, I appreciate all the views, and have argued internally in very nearly the same lines as each of the posters, but people read books for different experiences, and a major plot reveal can and does spoil the moment of discovery that Brandon loves to include. Just like he wishes he could have had the experience of reading the Way of Kings like his fans did, I would prefer to save that experience for others who might be tempted to read more than they should years before the books come out. (I am one of those people). Thanks for your various and honest input. It is appreciated- even for hypothetical situations.

Ever wonder what Bruce is like when he's not squeaky (which is to say, whenever he's not beside himself at the idea of a trip to Petsmart)?

She couldn't stay there. It was white, all white, so white white white. White wasn't a good color, because it wasn't a color at all. It was the absence of color, the absence of beauty. It was the color of nothing. The color of snow. Funtimes teleported out of Blueberry's bathroom, giving minimal thought to where she went. When she opened her eyes, she was outside. Blueberry's house was behind her; the crumbling remains of the neighborhood Blueberry had claimed were in front of her. Overgrown yards, untrimmed trees with piles of rotting leaves underneath. Broken windows and doors gaping open. Reminded her of—no, no, she couldn't think about that now. They were gaping open like power sockets. That's what they looked like. Power sockets always looked like they had their mouths and eyes wide open, like they'd stepped on a joy buzzer. She giggled. She felt better already. Funtimes moved along the cracked asphalt, pausing to bat a few weeds like a cat batting yarn. This was fun. This was nice. Much nicer than what she'd been thinking about. Like what she'd been thinking about last night when— —no, no no no no. No thinking about that. No thinking. No think. She cast about desperately for a distraction and—Noodly One be blessed—saw one over the horizon. Something colorful. Something sparkly. Something shiny.

I'm suddenly imagining Shallan inhaling an entire highstorm and then transforming it into a rain of pew pew lasers. And to steal a line from Rodney McKay 'That's what happens when you back a brilliant scholar into a corner!'. Hey, if Tavi can do it in Codex Alera... Dammit, now I want that to happen even though I know it won't.

Hope you get it, Del. On my good news front: I exceeded my monthly word count goal by just over 915 words!

I really want a partner. Someone who will go for long walks with me and always be there and love me unconditionally. A dog, is what I mean. I really want a dog.

You know how sometimes scientists answer "magic" to a question that's complicated or something not well understood?

Speaking of, we're getting a kitten.

Just a few really basic things. In the prologue, you start in third-person omniscient viewpoint, then move to third-person limited, then back to omniscient for little bits. Then, in Chapter 1, it's in first person. The tense also changes from past to present for bits of Chapter 1. As a rule, these variations shouldn't happen. Pick a tense, pick a viewpoint, and stay consistent. And if you're open to more practical advice... The prologue introduces Ian, but doesn't tell us much about him. We know what he looks like, but there isn't a strong sense of personality. You tell us what he's not -- a nerd or a jock -- but not what he is. 'Loner' isn't very descriptive. Try to establish the main character using actions and emotions. Let him show his true colours by doing, saying, and feeling things. If you're looking for some examples, most of the Marvel movies do this really well. Make sure the hero has some clear, distinctive qualities, and make them obvious. "Just an average kid" is the most boring kid in the world. Heroes stand out, even before they're heroes. The Doctor scene is interesting, because it introduces both Ian's abilities and the villain. The big problem here is the pacing. You don't need that whole paragraph to show that he's not in his own bed. He wakes from a deep sleep. There's an EKG monitor. He realizes he's in a hospital room. Got it. He calls out because he's confused. A nurse sees that he's awake, then goes to get the doctor. Everything before the doctor's arrival is trivial. Don't draw it out. The other problem with this scene is Ian's behavior. He doesn't seem confused or curious. He really should be asking "what happened?" "How did I get here?" "Where are my parents?" It seems boring and uninspired, but it's the way people react. It's a reaction readers will understand. And we need to understand the main character's actions. Otherwise, we disengage. You say "I squirm against the uncomfortable restraints, trying to give the doctor a hint to let me go." But why doesn't he just ask the doctor to remove the restraints? And you've probably heard this one before, but... show, don't tell. I'm talking about the syringe. Don't say "a scary-looking syringe;" describe the syringe, and let the scariness speak for itself. Tell us it was cut glass instead of plastic, and the needle was about as thick as an HB pencil, and the liquid inside the glass was bubbling like 7-Up on steroids. Bubbling so loud you can hear it. Ian demands to know what's in there, but the Doctor just tells him to relax. Ian can't relax. He struggles against the restraints. The Doctor advances. A drop of liquid falls off the tip of the needle and sizzles on the floor. Ian begs and pleads, but the doctor just keeps coming. There's something wrong with his eyes! Okay. I'll stop now.

They probably would claw out of it anyway. Also, throwing cats is not something you should do.

I don't have a problem with Windrunners having to swear an oath promising to fight to the death if necessary, but I do have trouble imagining how it would come up organically. The last few oaths Kaladin swore came to him at a time when they were particularly relevant to his situation. Like, he swore to "protect those who couldn't protect themselves" because that's literally what he was trying to accomplish. He swore to protect even those he hates so long as its the right thing to do after he came to that conclusion and did just that. I feel like it would be kinda messed up for the final initiation for joining the Windrunners to be something along the lines of: having to be put into a situation where you literally feel like you need to fight to the death or sacrifice yourself. Seems to me like that would be a violation of the first oath, but that's just my own speculation.

For movies, I think there'd be spren for different tones and genres. Actionspren. Suspense-spren (evolved from anticipationspren). Epicspren (evolved from gloryspren). Witspren, for Joss Whedon dialogue. Artsyspren, for Oscarbait. Marketingspren, for product placement. Plus modern-world spren for both real life and fiction. Cutespren. Awkwardspren. Hipsterspren. Nerdspren. Memespren. Tweetspren. Probably Pokemonspren.

Thank you, I'm glad that you do. @Edgedancer Here we have Voridgaze considering if getting up is really worth it. I didn't really know what a long cloak is supposed to be, so it's actually more of a flowing dress? Also, everyone (including me) likes to complain about how hard hands are, but no one ever talks about how difficult the feet are.

As a disclaimer, I barely if ever played Life, so don't expect accuracy I shall go for entertainment instead. To pass on the torch, @Quiver what happens when Lyla plays Guess Who? Ray was worried by this game. Nighthound was planning something and the fact that he already had a wedding dress prepared for when she landed on the field was disturbing. At least it wasn’t too revealing. It was Nighthound’s turn to spin. He ended up drawing a card. “What in the name of-“ An alligator burst out of the playing field and ripped Nighthound apart between its jaws before he had a chance to react. He didn’t go down immediately but the gallant animal continued to tear him apart. Ray snatched the card out of the air while making sure to stay away from the carnage. ‘An alligator takes over the plot. Also if you’re Nighthound you die.’ When Ray could finally lift her eyes from the card again she could see the alligator standing victoriously. Was it flashing its teeth at her in a cocky smile? Ray just took her chances and mounted the alligator and rode it away into the sunset.

When you're in tears after a completely crap day and people keep trying to talk to you...

Kaladin at the end of WoR:

----------------------------------------------- Gemini-Aries’s Secret Base, MI9 HQ ----------------------------------------------- “You’ve failed me, Mr. Oleny,” said Aries, somberly. Her voice had a digital tinge to it and Doc could tell that it was coming not from a person actually standing there, but from a speaker somewhere in the room. It sounded almost like she was whispering. “Where are you?” Oleny asked. The voice was disconcerting. He couldn’t place it in the room, and with no light to see by, he couldn’t find the speaker either. “That is no worry of yours.” A loud banging noise suddenly sounded out. The speaker crackled, the sound obviously far too loud for it. “Aries?” “Do not… worry about that. What is important is that you have been caught.” “I can… I can explain!” “No. No you can’t.” “Aries, please. I’m good at this job, you know I am.” “While that is true, you have compromised your position. You really expect me to leave you in the field when MI9 know who you are?” “No, no, but, you could reassign me! Put me somewhere else!” “With Joe?” “Yes!” “Joe is dead.” “What?” “Joe is dead, Oleny. Sorry. Thank you for your service.” The room was dark. ----------------------- A Joe in the Bush been lynched! They were a Double Agent "Coffee" Vote tally: A Joe in the Bush (2): Amanuensis, Arinian Drake Marshall (2): Assassin in Burgundy, Daniyah The Young Bard (1): Seonid Cycle 6 has now started! You have 24 hours! Have fun! Player List: --------------------------------------------------- Unfortunately, Mi9 seems to have... fallen asleep. It's very uncomfortable. Regardless, they have informed me that no missives were submitted. Agents, step your game up. How do you intend to catch the Double Agents without taking advantage of a vital line of information?!

Sunmaker. (Sunspear is the capital of Dorne, which I'm 96% sure is not in the cosmere.) And in WoK, we get this quote from Sunmaker: It's interesting because it's so completely opposite Dalinar's current beliefs. I'd guess Oathbringer is a book that Sunmaker wrote. Part autobiography, part Art of War. And in Dalinar's flashbacks, we'll learn that it was very important to him in his youth, when he was a ruthless bloodthirsty warlord. It was his guide to life, and Gavilar's inspiration. The grand arc of Dalinar's life is symbolized by his shift in reading material -- from Oathbringer to Way of Kings.

what if they constantly bickered (partly because of clashing ideologies) and neither would admit their feelings for each other but they still liked doing things with each other. Then the rest of the original vessels began referring to them as married jokingly and somehow the southern scadrians heard about that (maybe from Hoid), turning that into religion. Have I mentioned that my life will be complete only when I read dragonsteel?

So, this was a book idea I had a few years ago in eight grade after I saw whatever Marvel movie was out at the time. I had the amazing idea to make a series of books about superheroes. That idea spawned this character. I started writing it, and I was certain that I would go on to write an entire book, but I lost inspiration/forgot about it. I just remembered it, and I was surprised to see I still have it. So, I decided what the heck. I kind of like it, except for my writing style at the time (yes, I know I accidentally switched from present to past to present all over the place, I was just too lazy to go back and fix it).

Sorry for getting this out late, I meant to finish it last Saturday If my word count is right, that's 230 words

I am referring to his battle plans which basically all end up being the same: jump into the melee and kill as many as possible. As always, he has the tendency to get lost within his fighting and thus losing the agreed upon strategy. During the battle of the Stormforms, Dalinar doesn't do much: he dispatches units to support the leading officers. Adolin is the one who wins the battle by being clever, Aladar only wins because he basically has all the ressources: Dalinar is the overseer. Sure, he is obviously not devoid of military skills, but I do not read him as a great tactical mind. I read Dalinar as someone who learns mostly through personal experience and when we meet him in WoK, he has had a lot of it. For instances, Field Marshal Tamas in the Powder Mage trilogy is an amazing military tactician: he anticipates his enemies, he traps them, he toys with their expectations in order to secure victories. Now, that's what I would call a great tactician. I have seen none of this in Dalinar: his tactics generally are overwhelming the opponent with superior strength and basic strategies. He has yet to be.... innovative and creative. He has yet to rely on something else than brute strength and number superiority. Mind, he isn't a simpleton, it isn't what I meant, but I do not read him as a military genius to the same extend as I read other characters in other series.I personally feel Dalinar's greatest strength remains his ability to impose his will onto people and to get them to do as he says, for better or for worst.

Oh, buddy. Go look at the 80 pages Easter egg hunt on the map of Roshar. Or the translation of the Alethi women's script and glyph pairs. This is timid in comparison

I have found my people. so lately they've been coming out with glass coffins. The future of them remains to be seen. Draw line on the floor. lift that line. now you have yourself a pickup line Everytime I say a pun all my friends groan. So that happens every 10 minutes on average.

I don't think we have enough information to answer this yet. Perhaps in Oathbringer we'll get a sense of how much Stormlight Vasher needs, which would help... Rosharan years are 1.1 "standard" years. This means there's about 19.3 hours per Rosharan day. Returned need one Breath every 8 days (Warbreaker annotations for chapter 14). IF we assume Nalthis has a "standard" day length of 24 hours, this means they need one Breath every 192 hours. So Vasher needs one Breath worth of Stormlight about every 10 Rosharan days (2 Rosharan weeks). So IF you can assume that Vasher is not gaining/losing his store of Breaths while on Roshar (probably not true; I imagine he's stocking up) then you can check how much he 'consumes' every ten days on Roshar to get the answer. You'd probably have to express the answer in terms of a particular sphere denomination.

I found Hoid. LOL. That must have been what started the event that Hoid referred to when he talked about spending "the better part of a year in a large stomach, being digested" back in WoR.